Ars Musica
by WasabiLemon
Summary: AU. When Roxas went to visit Radiant Garden University for a band workshop, he was hoping to meet a good looking college man. He got more than he'd expected with Axel. AkuRoku with RikuSora, LeonCloud, and others.
1. Cookies and sweat

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

"From what I've tasted of desire,

I hold with those who favor fire."

---Robert Frost

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Roxas looked with anticipation at the flyer posted to the band room's notice board.

_Radiant Garden University's Marching Band Workshop_

_RGU Campus, Saturday- August 30th_

Colorful pictures covered the poster. Roxas scanned it, singling out the ones that featured his fellow clarinetists. Roxas definietely was not known for having the most pep or school pride, but if there was one thing he was fiercely proud of, it was playing the clarinet.

'_I'm actually excited to go,'_ he said to himself, a bit surprised. _'I wonder if--'_

"Roxas!"

"Jesus!" Roxas exclaimed, eyes wide, hand over his chest in shock. Sora chose the oddest moments to pop out of nowhere. Ignoring Roxas' still frightened expression and his near hyperventilation, Sora looked pointedly at the poster that he had been examining.

"Rox, are you coming to the workshop tomorrow?"

"Well, I--"

"Come on, Rox. You never do anything! Besides, there'll be tons of fun stuff, and other band geeks, and hot, sexy college men. You'd like one of those, right?"

Roxas felt his face turn red. He'd only told Sora that he _might_ like guys, but Sora had taken that admission to heart, constantly scoping out potential boyfriends for him.

"If you don't come, I swear I'll—mmph!"

Roxas sighed as he covered Sora's mouth mid-sentence. "Sora, I'm going. Calm down, would you?" Sora glared in response. Roxas grudgingly removed the hand, knowing he would regret it as soon as Sora opened his mouth.

The brunette smiled broadly. "So, I see the temptation of older men has already swayed you, eh? You're so shallow, Rox." He poked Roxas in the stomach playfully. Roxas slapped at the hand, earning him a pout from Sora. Curses were exchanged, hair was pulled, and within minutes, the two were embroiled in an all out tickle war on the floor of the band room.

The tickle-fight-fun was ended, however, when a certain silver-haired senior entered the room.

"Oh my God," Sora gaped, "it's _him_!" He shoved an unsuspecting Roxas off of his body and tried to hurriedly fix his unmanageable hair. He stood and brushed out his clothes, hoping Riku hadn't seen him rolling around on the ground with Roxas and gotten the wrong impression.

"Oh, don't bother trying to help me up or anything," Roxas mumbled dejectedly from the floor. Sora ignored him. He was good at that.

"Look at him! Would you just look at him? Amazing. He's a freaking sex god, Rox. Smart, too. I could go for that," Sora said wistfully.

The sex god in question was currently taking out a polished silver trumpet, carefully examining the instrument for any fingerprints or scratches. His white gloves accentuated the long fingers that delicately turned the horn.

Sora swooned.

"Oh, come on," Roxas said, exasperated. "He's not _that_ great, Sora."

Roxas knew he was fudging that a little. Riku was pretty much the total package-- rich, handsome, and talented. It was common knowledge, to most of the juniors at least, that Sora had been interested in Riku for years now. And by interested, they meant nearly obsessed. Sora had even experimented with switching to the trumpet just to be in the same section as Riku, but was disheartened to find that he had no talent whatsoever for the instrument. Nope, he was stuck with the flute.

Sora shrugged noncommittally, and Roxas knew without a doubt that Sora hadn't even heard him. He grabbed Sora around the waist and dragged him out of the room, hoping it would free him from Riku's spell.

'_I swear, Sora would jump off a cliff if he thought it'd make Riku love him,'_ Roxas rolled his eyes at the thought, but was a little disturbed by the truth in it. It was a good thing that Sora was deathly afraid of heights and all things cliff-like.

"Roxas. Roxas, hello? You can put me down now. And don't worry, I'm not cuckoo-bananas over Riku," Sora muttered as he sullenly leaned against the wall. Roxas crossed his arms and shot him a challenging look.

"Okay, okay, I'm not _too_ cuckoo-bananas for him," he relented, picking at one of his fingernails, his bottom lip jutting out in a standard pout.

"Good," Roxas confirmed. He listened absently to the muffled notes as Riku started playing scales in the nearby room. The two wandered up and down the hallway in silence.

Sora couldn't stand silence. "So, you're really going to the workshop, right?" he asked hopefully, kneading his hands anxiously.

"I can guarantee that I'll be there. Do you know who else is going?"

Sora put a finger on his chin, thinking. Roxas couldn't help but grin at how adorable he looked. Sora had a classic face, complete with all the beautiful, soft features Roxas could only wish he had. And he never made any fuss over his good looks-- one of the many reasons Roxas liked him.

"Well, there's you and me," Sora started, counting off on his fingers, "plus Riku, Kairi, Tidus, Wakka, and Yuffie. Maybe Naminé, if she's feeling better. Plus people from other schools. Isn't that great?"

Roxas nodded in agreement, letting out a wide yawn. "I should go. This is my free period, and I'm ready to go take a nap," Roxas said as he scratched lazily at his stomach.

"Yeah, you look it," Sora teased, poking him again. "Go get some sleep, fatty."

"Shut up, Sora, or I'll run you over in the parking lot," he countered seriously.

"And then you'd get charged for vehicular manslaughter, so ha! Just remember to call me before you leave tomorrow morn-- no, wait-- on second thought, let's drive there together! I'll bring the cheese puffs, you bring the soda. Two whole hours of quality bonding, just you and me, can you believe it?" Sora pumped his fists in excitement, very nearly punching an innocent bystander.

"Great, I just can't contain my bubbling inner joy. _Goodbye_, Sora."

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Roxas was really, really regretting choosing to come to this workshop.

"Take a lap!" one of the instructors shouted, waving his arm in a 'hurry up and move your ass' gesture. Roxas reluctantly jogged to the track.

He felt disgusting. And he looked just as disgusting as he felt. Sweat soaked his entire shirt, making the light grey fabric look more like… well, a darker, wetter shade of grey. His normally fluffy hair was also drenched and stuck uncomfortably to his head. His only source of consolation was that the rest of the high schoolers looked just as horrible as he did.

Roxas finished his lap with Sora panting beside him. He doubled up, hands on his knees, baking under the hot August sun. Sora, if it was possible, looked even worse off, shaking from the exertion. They had been on the RGU campus for two hours now and hadn't even taken their instruments out of their cases; it was nothing but pushups, laps, and more laps. And yelling.

"Alright, alright," the RGU instructor shouted, "I can see you all aren't quite up to this, so I'll let you take a break. Five minutes." He stalked off toward the water tent.

"Asshole," Sora wheezed.

The rest of the group from Twilight High soon gathered around, passing water bottles around and starting a very productive complaining session.

"The papers didn't say anything about doing all this," Kairi griped, her hair in a sweaty, sloppy ponytail. She flapped her arms in an effort to dry out the sweat stains.

"It's over a hundred degrees out here. I feel like I'm going to die," Riku added, flushed, as he fanned himself with a music folder.

"I'm already dead," Sora wailed melodramatically, covering his face with one sunburned arm.

"I don't really mind, ya," Wakka said amiably. He got nothing but stares of hatred.

"You freak," Tidus said spitefully, swiping at the larger boy. "It's not fair, you're used to insane weather like this," he complained.

Yuffie jumped up from her place on the ground. "Did you see all the people that just up and left? Sissies."

"Ugh, when do we actually get to play?" Roxas questioned anxiously, reapplying his sun block.

Riku grimaced. "Soon, I hope." He passed a water jug to Sora, who for a moment looked perfectly content with sweating like a pig, as long as it meant Riku would share drinking vessels with him. Roxas noted that the students from other schools had also formed their own circles, and that from the sound of their grumbling, were no happier with the conditions.

"Alright, y'all, listen up," a voice rang out from a loudspeaker, the southern twang apparent even from across the field. "We're going to divide you up into groups… and then head on inside!"

The cheers were instantaneous. Tidus fell to his feet, thanking God as well as the inventor of air conditioning, while Yuffie poured a bottle of water over hear head, screaming ecstatically. A girl from another school actually did cartwheels, and if Roxas had thought he was physically able, he might've joined her.

"Haha, just kidding," the loudspeaker voice continued. "I can't believe you fell for that, how lame."

Roxas' grateful grin fell, and all celebration stopped. The speaker jogged slowly to the center of the field, obviously unaware of the death glares he was receiving.

"Okay," the sandy blonde shouted, foregoing the loudspeaker, "first of all, I'm Demyx. Nice to see y'all! Right now, we're going to pair you up with one of our upperclassmen, who'll help you with fundamentals and whatnot." He smiled broadly.

Tidus was hard at work sharpening a small twig he'd found. "Stab him right through that mulleted head of his," he muttered under his breath as he whittled away. Roxas took a step away from Tidus.

Demyx began reading names off of a list of names, telling each person who their partner was and where to find them. Predictably, he came to a grinding halt at Roxas.

"Roxas K-- uh… Hold on, I've got this." Demyx's face contorted as he squeezed out a few more syllables, still unable to get it right.

Tidus and Yuffie snickered as Roxas dragged himself to centerfield. He was used to people having trouble with his last name. Darn his parents and their need to hyphenate their already hard to pronounce surnames!

"It's Kudryavtsev-Monceaux," he told Demyx matter of factly.

"I'm sorry, Roxas," Demyx replied, looking genuinely sorry. "I'm an idiot. My last name's a pain too, and I hate it when people get it wrong, so I should totally know better. Won't happen again," he promised, patting Roxas on the shoulder.

"Okay, Roxas. Your upperclassman is-- Axel! Hey, I know him, and you'll_ love_ him. He's great. And you need to meet Axel at the field house. It's over that-a way," he said excitedly, pointing off into the distance. "Good luck, have fun, bye!" He shooed Roxas away, even going so far as to smack him on the ass with the paper in his hands, urging him on.

"I feel violated," Roxas said, half-scandalized, half-amused. "What kind of college is this?"

Demyx laughed and and waved him on, then returned to dividing up the remaining musicians.

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Roxas enjoyed the walk to the field house, happy for the chance to relax. No laps, no pushups, no hellishly cruel instructors. He dawdled, wanting to stretch this free time out as long as possible. He managed to take fifteen minutes to get to the field house, but there was no more prolonging the inevitable.

'_He's supposed to be here,'_ Roxas thought, a little worried. He peered into the field house's windows, but saw nobody. He tried to open the door, but it was securely locked. He walked slowly around to the other side of the building, which was heavily shaded by thick oak trees, and saw a figure sitting atop a large crate, alternating between smoking and eating something.

"Hey," Roxas called uncertainly, "are you-- um… are you my partner guy?" he questioned shyly and shuffled into view, mentally berating himself for forgetting the name Demyx had specified.

The figure turned and, for a moment, Roxas was frightened. Dark, secluded area plus mysterious man equals bad, the CSI watching part of his brain warned. He stook a step back, stopping when he heard laughter.

"Hey, kid," a mellow voice called out from the shadows. "Don't be scared. I don't bite, I promise." Roxas could practically hear the amusement in the man's voice. "Though I have been known to nibble occasionally," he added conspiratorially.

"Oh." Roxas wasn't sure what to say to that.

"And yes, I'm your 'partner guy'," he continued, sliding off the crate and extinguishing his cigarette. As he walked out into the sunlight, Roxas struggled to keep his jaw from dropping.

The man was gorgeous. Not in the conventional sense, not like Sora or Riku, but gorgeous all the same. He had light, fair skin (a miracle with all this sun, Roxas thought) with spiked red hair and green eyes so bright that Roxas thought of street lights. His height and thinness could have made him seem skeletal, but instead added to his look.

Before Roxas knew what was happening, the redhead was standing in front of him, toe-to-toe. He leaned over to compensate for his height, nearly touching noses with the blonde. He found himself staring at the two small tattoos on the man's face, amazed that someone would actually let a needle that close to their eyes. Intense green eyes found his and Roxas sucked in a startled breath, smelling cinnamon, citrus fruit, and faint traces of smoke.

"Having fun so far, kiddo? Sure looks like they've been workin' ya," he laughed, gesturing to Roxas' still sweat-soaked clothes. The blonde blushed, self-consciously smelling himself and wishing he'd had an opportunity to shower after the morning's rigorous exercises.

The red haired man held a pair of drumsticks in one hand and a half eaten tube of cookie dough in the other. Roxas felt his stomach begin to growl at the tantalizing scent and coughed loudly to cover up the embarrassing noise.

"The name's Axel MacKenna. Get it memorized, 'cause you'll be with me a lot today." He paused to bite off a chunk of cookie dough, chewing as he continued. "What about you?"

"Roxas Kudryavtsev-Monceaux," Roxas said with a pout already in place.

"You're a mouthful, Roxas," the redhead said teasingly, fighting back a grin. "So tell me about yourself. Let's get to know each other, eh?"

"Get to know each other?"

"Yeah, I want to hear everything-- your favourite food, where you go to school, childhood stories, your hopes and dreams, your deepest fears and darkest desires, all that good stuff."

"Um," Roxas stalled, unsure of where to start. "Well… I like turtles."

Axel snorted with laughter. "I ask you to reveal your innermost secrets, to lay your soul bare, and you tell me you like turtles? You're either funny or just plain weird, I can't really tell."

"Well, there's not much about me that's interesting to tell. I go to Twilight High, I play clarinet--" Axel made a disgusted face "--my best friend is named Sora, I'm a junior, and… I like turtles. See? I've come full circle. There's nothing else about me worth knowing," he finished, crossing his arms over his chest.

Axel smiled softly and gave him a look that he couldn't quite identify. Roxas furrowed his brow, wishing more than ever that he could read minds.

"If that's what you want to think," he said, shrugging. "I guess it's my turn to tell something, hm?" They both sat on the grassy ground, legs crossed.

Roxas watched as Axel chewed thoughtfully on more cookie dough.

"Well, I'm twenty, and I'm a junior here at RGU. I major in anthropology and minor in music. Weird combination, right? I love music, though, and if you haven't run away from this place crying yet, I'd say you love it, too-- this workshop isn't exactly a cakewalk. I'm a percussionist, by the way. My hair color's natural, and I'm Irish-- half at least. I spent this summer traveling abroad, and I just got back last week. And I like turtles, too," he finished, smiling as he licked the side of his hand, where a little cookie dough had fallen. Roxas gulped as he watched Axel's tongue slide over his skin, far more interested than he felt he should be. He distracted himself with picking at flowers and fallen leaves.

"So what do you have against clarinet players? I saw the face you made when I told you that's what I played," Roxas complained, picking a blade of grass and tearing it to pieces.

"Oh, nothing personal. I'm sure you know how it is," he added, smiling devilishly. "The wind players always say that the percussion is too loud, or off tempo, or that we waste our free time goofing off and telling sex jokes. The last one, I'll grant you, is more often than not true, but that's beside the point. The point is… sometimes we just talk shit about other sections for the hell of it," Axel shrugged, chewing on a long stalk of grass and stretching out his legs. "It's like a tradition. I mean, it's not like we actually hate each other. After all, I like _you_, Roxas, and you play clarinet," he finished with a sly smile.

Roxas couldn't help but notice Axel's foot brushing against his thigh. It was a ghost light touch, but it tingled and burned- in a good way- all down his leg. Roxas sighed quietly as he felt a heated blush shiver up his neck and a similar feeling slide down his stomach.

"So… what are we supposed to be doing now?" he questioned as he stood abruptly, brushing the dead grass from his pants. Axel was up beside him in seconds and Roxas had the unusual sensation of standing next to a skyscraper.

"Fundamentals. The basics, you know. Marching backward, using the right technique, posture," he replied, twirling a drumstick in one hand. He held out the tube of cookie dough, shaking it in Roxas' face. The smell was almost too good to bear.

"I heard your stomach, kiddo," Axel teased, waving the dough temptingly. "And it's peanut butter-chocolate chip," he drawled, luring a willing Roxas in. His stomach growled joyously as he snatched the tube and took his first bite, savoring each mouthful until he had finished it.

"Alright, alright. Are you ready to get to work, you lazy, good-for-nothing clarinetist?" Axel asked, grinning. He leaned in a little, raising his dark red eyebrows questioningly; from this close, Roxas could even see a number of pale freckles running across the bridge of the older man's nose.

Roxas allowed himself a small smile, and followed Axel as he retreated to the other side of the building.

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**I like the idea of having a southern sounding Demyx. Is that weird? I mean, he's got a mullet! It works! I'm sorry for OOC-ness, but it will probably run rampant. Be forewarned!**

**I'm also going to ask- -no, shamelessly beg for reviews. See, otherwise, I can't really tell if people are actually reading this or if they click on it, read the first two sentences, decide it's crap, and then leave. I don't want to waste time putting this up on the internets if no one wants to read it! I'm way too lazy to go through all that just for myself.**

**So please review!**

**Especially if you spot a typo or something. I hate those.**

**It would make me oh so happeh!**

**:p**


	2. Apples and oranges

**This chapter is dedicated to all the awesome people who reviewed! (****Because you guys are awesomer than you know.)**

"Do I dare

Disturb the universe?"

---T.S. Eliot

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"No, no, no, no. Roxas, have you really been doing this for three years?" Axel asked in an exaggerated tone of disbelief, throwing his hands up in the air. He was a determined perfectionist, and Roxas' technique was driving him insane. As Axel made him go back and retry his roll step for what felt like the hundredth time, the boy snapped. He rebelled in the only way he knew how-- by dropping to the ground and spurning the world.

"Roxas, what are you doing? Get off the ground. What are you, four? I don't have time for this. They don't pay me enough to deal with this! Well, technically, I'm not getting paid at all; no, the joy I derive from working with future college musicians like you is supposed to be my reward," he said irritably, standing over Roxas' limp, sprawled form.

The two were in the open clearing near the field house, where up until a minute ago they'd been practicing. They had a good deal of space to themselves, as all the other groups were either on the football field or across campus. The redhead shielded his eyes with the back of his hand as the sun got higher and brighter.

Axel squinted as Roxas chose to ignore him. "Some fucking reward. You can't just lay in the dirt like that! I'm _trying_ to teach you, if you'd stop being such an ass. Now get up. I'm serious," he warned with forced anger.

Roxas moved an arm to cover his face, effectively blocking the irritated Axel from sight.

"Hah, that's not going to help, kid. You may not be able to see me, but you can still hear me, and believe me, my voice is a hundred times more annoying than my face," he said, his tone still only mildly peeved. Roxas continued to pretend as if Axel didn't exist, though he was now tempted to sneak a glance at the redhead, if only to verify for himself that Axel's face was more attractive than annoying.

"Roxas, if you don't get up this very second," he warned, tone serious for the first time, "you will regret it."

The petulant blonde remained motionless, listening curiously to the shuffling noises the redhead was making. He had only known Axel for about an hour, but felt relatively confidant that the man would never hurt him, at least not intentionally. Still, he anxiously wondered what the other was planning and whether he should be worried.

Roxas' mental question was answered when he suddenly felt heat and pressure resting on top of him. He kicked and slapped at the body above him, struggling to wiggle free. Axel effectively squashed Roxas in place, using all of the meager weight he had to hold him still. Roxas ceased his attempt at freedom, relaxing and trying to take in exactly what was happening.

"See? I bet you wish you'd gotten up when I asked nicely," Axel whispered close to his ear, the familiar teasing tone back in his voice. "Am I right? Tell me I'm right, Roxas."

Roxas was more preoccupied with the position he was in than with answering his red haired captor.

'_Okay, mental list of things to be freaked out about:_

_1. Axel is on top of me, as in 'bodies-touching-all-over-the-place' on top of me._

_2. I can't breathe. _

_3. My face is smushed up against his neck, which actually smells really good, way _

_better than I do right now. Mmm, like soap and oranges and spicy stuff._

_4. Axel is hot- unnaturally so. I feel like I'm trapped in a burning building._

_5. I like it._

_Wow. Okay. That didn't help.'_

"Um… Axel?"

"Yes, O Annoying Blonde One?"

"I can't breathe."

Roxas felt the weight above his chest shift slightly as Axel obliged him. With his most urgent problem solved, the blonde contemplated what he should do next; the surprisingly heavy man on top of him was not going anywhere soon.

"Axel?" he inquired hesitantly.

Roxas felt him fidget impatiently. "What now?"

"Are you going to get off of me any time soon?" he asked acrimoniously, giving a weak shove into Axel's chest. Roxas was nothing if not introverted, and having someone this close was a violation of his precious space-- he just wished his body would stop betraying him by enjoying it.

"That depends, blondie. Are you going to stop being a whiny-ass titty-baby every time I correct you? Will you get up and work with me?" Axel kept his voice light but his tone half-serious. He shifted his weight again, tired from simultaneously holding Roxas down while attempting to keep from squishing the younger boy.

Roxas held his moody silence for another few minutes before acquiescing. "Fine. Yes."

Axel pushed himself up and away, breaking the contact they'd had and leaving Roxas both relieved and disappointed. Roxas sat up and saw the other man crouched in the shade of a weeping willow, focused on rewrapping red and black tape around one of the battered drumsticks he'd used to hammer out beats for Roxas to march to during practice.

Roxas sidled down beside him, accepting this silence between himself and his partner as a much needed break. When Axel didn't start up a conversation after the first ten minutes, Roxas wondered if he'd offended the man.

"Hey, Axel," he started sheepishly, giving the redhead a soft tap on the shoulder. "I'm sorry for doing… well, you know. I'm sorry for being such an ass. But go easy on me." Roxas watched Axel's face hopefully, but kept his own face blank in case the percussionist didn't accept his apology.

"It's alright. I'm a slave driver, I know. You're not the first to throw a hissy fit over me, that's for sure. The rest of the drumline does it all the time. I can usually give them demerits or make them do pushups if they get uppity, but I figured that wouldn't work on you so…"

"So you sat on me," Roxas finished for him impassively.

Axel grinned. "Well, yeah. It was kind of fun, too. Careful, I might make Roxas-sitting a habit," he warned.

Roxas let a soft laugh escape as he leaned back against the tree, hoping Axel was kidding. He watched as Axel finished taping the stick, listening to the redhead's idle chatter that never ended.

"You know," Roxas interrupted him abruptly, "you smell like oranges."

Axel froze and turned his head to stare Roxas full in the face. The blonde felt his cheeks glow red as he realized what an awkward observance that was.

'_Stupid, stupid, stupid, why am I so stupid? Stupid, stu--' _

Axel's voice intruded into Roxas' mental attack on himself. "Yeah, that's 'cause I work at World Smoothie. You know, the smoothie place," he added helpfully.

Roxas perked up. "Really? I go there all the time, and I've never seen you working," he replied with a hint of suspicion.

"Yeah… well, you see, I kind of got into a big fight with a customer on my second day, so now they make me sit in the backroom and squeeze oranges. You know that 'fresh squeezed tropical orange juice' they put in all their smoothies? I make it all day long." Axel winced as he said it.

"Wow. That would definitely explain the orange smell," Roxas agreed, smiling at the thought of Axel sitting on a bucket and squeezing fruit in the back of World Smoothie.

"Mmhmm. And then paper cuts are a real bitch," he said sagely before reclining to the ground, the tips of his fingers lazily brushing against Roxas' side. "What about you, eh? Have you been juicing apples?"

"Huh?" Roxas was wondering if he'd missed an important piece of the conversation or if was Axel on crack and he just hadn't realized it till now.

"Apples," the thin man repeated slowly. "You smell like apples. Also like sweat. Mostly like sweat. But I can still smell apples. I was wondering if your sucky job involves you getting locked up in a dark, cramped room and juicing fruit, like me."

"Uh, no. I guess it's my shampoo."

"Ah, must be. It smells _fantastic_," Axel decided enthusiastically, giving Roxas a wide, openmouthed grin as he rose.

Roxas looked up expectantly. "Are we going somewhere? Because I don't want to go," he griped, remaining firmly planted on the earth. Axel gave him a look that made it perfectly clear that he wouldn't take no for an answer, and that dragging the blonde there by his hair was definitely an option. Roxas staggered to his feet, making sure to exaggerate his sigh so the other man had to hear it.

Axel pouted and imitated Roxas' whining tone perfectly. "I don't want to go. Waaah, the upperclassmen are mean and they make us run! Boo hoo."

Roxas was not amused. "Very funny," he said icily as he slapped the arm of the taller man, who was still imitating Roxas and pretending to cry. "Why do they make us run laps anyway? We should be doing _music_, not running," the blonde huffed.

"It builds lung strength and endurance," Axel replied casually, starting the walk back to the football field. "Personally, I think we should run more."

Roxas looked aghast. "I was expecting you to be on my side," he said, surprised that the lazy, smoking, cookie dough eating man would ever be in favor of physical activity. "What about pushups? Why do we have to do those?"

Axel clicked his sticks in time as he walked. "They help build arm muscle so you can hold your instrument parallel and all that." He glanced at Roxas from the corner of his eye. "Not that it matters for you, clarinet-dork."

"Shut up, Axel."

"I resolutely refuse to. You know, at band camp during my freshman year, they put duct tape over my mouth while I was sleeping."

Roxas snorted. "If only it had worked," he muttered under his breath, believing Axel couldn't hear him.

That belief was corrected by a swift slap to the back of his head.

"Jesus Christ, Axel! That was my head you just hit!" he exclaimed, rubbing the area carefully.

Axel smirked. "Consider it punishment for taking the Lord's name in vain, you naughty, naughty boy," he admonished impishly.

Roxas gave him the silent treatment. For all of two minutes. "So what are we doing now? Why are we going back to the field? I don't care if it makes my lungs muscular, I don't want to do another lap. I will drop dead."

"Don't tempt fate," Axel whispered, putting one long, slender finger over his lips. He waited until Roxas looked sufficiently annoyed before answering his questions. "We're heading back to the field for the rest of the pre-lunch activities. After lunch, we go inside and do sectional stuff. Actual music."

"Pre-lunch activities?" Roxas questioned curiously. His curiosity, along with his apprehension, grew at the sight of the redhead's wide smile.

"That's right. Before lunch we get to play games-- the standard stuff, like tug-of-war, obstacle courses, races… it's lots of fun, I promise you'll enjoy it," he added quickly, watching the blonde's reaction carefully.

"Are we a team?" Roxas asked suddenly, gesturing between himself and Axel.

Axel beamed, looping arms with Roxas and pulling him close. "That's right! It's you and me against the world, kid. And I have long legs, so try to take big steps during the three-legged race, okay?"

Roxas gaped.

"C'mon, Roxas. This is the best part of the day," Axel pleaded. "Just try to enjoy it. I can tell this isn't your thing, but we can kick serious ass today. I can feel it. I can feel it right here," he said seriously, gesturing vaguely to his spleen area.

"I've never been good at sports," Roxas said nervously.

"Then don't think of it as sports," the redhead replied brightly. "Think of it as… party games. Like Pin the Tail on the Donkey."

Roxas flushed. "In third grade, I sent a kid to the hospital during a game of Pin the Tail on the Donkey," he fretted, looking up at Axel with worry in his eyes. "And I don't want to tell you the details," he added darkly.

Axel's smile faltered, but only for a second. "That's okay, Roxas. Be positive-- if you end up sending enough people to the hospital, we'll have to win! It's brilliant, it's foolproof."

The two walked out into the middle of the football field, where several other teams were wandering around. Roxas spotted Riku a short distance off with a handsome, buff brunette-- a brunette wearing leather. Skintight leather. In hundred plus degree weather.

'_Clearly, Axel isn't the only messed up person at this university,'_ he thought gravely, watching the redhead beside him jumping and flailing for someone's attention.

It wasn't long before the rest of the groups gathered, nearly fifty in total, and the band director ambled up. He was a short, squat man with white hair and a wide mouth. He smiled out at the crowd, waving for them to be silent.

"That's Mr. Cavanaugh," Axel whispered. "He's a hard ass, but he's a great BD. We're lucky to have him."

"Settle down, settle down," Mr. Cavanaugh bellowed. "It's time to get this started. First up is the three-legged race, so line up on the long side of the football field, and we'll come around to tape you together," he finished while pulling two large rolls of tape from the bag next to his feet.

"Let's go, Rox! We need to get a good place. Can I call you Rox?" Axel asked anxiously as he pulled the younger boy along, plowing and shoving through the crowd. Roxas briefly saw Sora, but the chocolate haired boy was lost amongst the bodies a second later.

"No. No one calls me Rox, except Sora," he explained, but the overwhelming noise around them mostly drowned out his response. He frowned and sulkily followed the taller man, not that he had much choice-- Axel held his wrist in a viselike grip, hauling him along.

When the redhead abruptly stopped, Roxas' lack of observance led him right into his back. "Damn, Roxas. Are you blind or just retarded?" he asked with an exaggerated sigh. Axel picked a spot near the middle of the line, staking out his territory. "How about Roxy? Can I call you Roxy?" he questioned suddenly.

"What? No, that makes me sound like a girl," he pouted, crossing his arms and glaring.

Axel tilted his head to the side. "No, pouting is what makes you girly," he said flatly, breaking into a grin at the shocked expression that passed over Roxas' face. "I'm _kidding_, Roxy."

Roxas rolled his eyes, not bothering to correct him. Instead he studied the two pairs on either side of him, neither of which he recognized. Roxas looked left and watched as a light haired, dark skinned man made his way up the line, taping legs together as he went.

"That's Baralai," Axel told him, leaning over the blonde's shoulder to get close to his ear. "He's one of our drum majors. Kind of quiet, but really smart and really, really good in anything musical. There's a running joke in band that he's somehow descended from Beethoven," Axel chuckled.

"That's not that funny," Roxas muttered, shoving Axel away from him. The other man grinned and gave a light shove back. Roxas scowled and pushed him harder, only to find Axel's hands wrapped around his arms, pulling him closer and preventing the blonde from pushing him away.

"Come on," Axel said pleadingly, "we're a team. Work with me." The sun was merciless, and Roxas could see the gleam on Axel's face as he finally felt the heat and broke into sweat.

Roxas gave a sigh and nodded, shutting his eyes against the light, only vaguely aware that Axel still held him.

"Ahem," a calm, soft voice interrupted. Roxas' eyes shot open.

Axel loosened his hold, turning to face the short, handsome man that was watching them curiously. "Oh, hey Baralai. This is Roxas," he gestured to the blonde beside him, "and we're going to kick ass today. We're going to take it to the extreme. To the max, even. Will you be able to handle it, Lai-Lai?"

"I'm sure I am capable, Axel, thank you for asking. And don't call me Lai-Lai," Baralai said coolly, loudly ripping off a strip of tape. "Please put your legs together," he ordered politely. Axel snickered but stuck his leg out, and Roxas followed suit. Baralai quickly wrapped their legs together, smiling to himself at the height difference between the two. Roxas' hip barely came to the redhead's thigh, and he stood nearly a foot taller than the blonde-- sticking the two side by side made them look comically disproportionate.

Baralai finished with them and moved on to attend to the remaining pairs. Roxas felt his stomach turn somersaults; competition had never been one of his strong points, and the buildup of anxiety and tension beforehand was the worst part. He cleared his throat nervously, shifting his weight from leg to leg to work out the jitters.

"Calm down, Roxas," Axel whispered soothingly. "Don't stress, alright?" Roxas nodded and slowed his breathing while Axel patted his back lightly. "Look! We share a limb now. That means we're leg buddies, and I won't hate you even if you do make us lose, Roxy." He smiled reassuringly. Roxas gave him a blank stare.

Mr. Cavanaugh faced them from the opposite side of the field. "Are we good to go?" he shouted. Yells erupted from along the line, and Baralai gave the director a thumbs-up. "Then let's get started. The first team to make it across the line I'm standing on will get a special prize." The crowd oohed and ahhed.

"Ready?"

Axel wrapped an arm around Roxas' shoulder, trying to become as cohesive as possible, and told him which foot they would start out on. He set his face into a mask of determination, his mouth straightening into an unfamiliar harsh line.

"Set?"

Roxas put his arm gingerly around Axel's waist, gripping the man's shirt and twisting it in anticipation.

"Go!"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I can't believe you dragged me those last twenty feet," Roxas said in a tone of disbelief.

Axel shrugged. "I told you that I wanted to win," he said simply. "Sorry, I'm really competitive. But look on the bright side-- at least we came in second. And we were so close to winning, I could practically taste it. Damn that Gippal and his three years of cross country… I knew I should've put rocks in his shoes."

"Yeah, well. That was just great," Roxas muttered as he tried to un-stick himself from Axel, who just looked on amusedly. "You could help me with this, you know," he pointed out.

"But that would take the fun out of watching you struggle," Axel smirked. "Oh, look, there's Gippal. Hey Gippal!" he called, waving the tanned blonde over. Gippal was tall-- not as tall as Axel, but definitely more muscular-- and had long, spiked pale blonde hair. He also had a black leather eye patch covering his right eye, making Roxas wonder curiously if his eye was actually gone or if it was just a fashion statement.

"Axel, just the man I was looking for." He nodded in greeting, smiling smugly. "Good race, huh? I've got this Seifer kid as a partner-- annoying as hell, but a damn good athlete. I hope your boy here isn't too torn up," he added, laughing. "He was just kind of flapping behind you while you ran. Too bad, eh? If you'd gotten paired with someone better, Ax, you might've actually come in first place."

Roxas reddened. "Hey, it's not my fault. Look at how long his legs are! I can't help that I don't have freakishly long legs or years of running experience," he whined, successfully peeling off the last of the duct tape and standing up straight. "Besides, we came in _second_, and that's good enough."

"Tch. Anything less than first just sucks, and that's the truth," Gippal countered confidently, pulling out two cigarettes and passing one to Axel and pulling out a lighter. The two chatted animatedly as they smoked, neither noticing when Roxas left to look for Sora.

Ten minutes later, Roxas still had nothing to show for his efforts. They were confined to RGU's courtyard until the next event, and the spacious, forest-like area made finding anyone a challenge. Convinced that the search was hopeless, he sat on the edge of one of the many ornate fountains lining the courtyard's ivy covered walls. Water poured from a sculpted lion's mouth down into the pool, the bottom of which shimmered with silvery coins. If nothing else, Roxas had to admit that Radiant Garden itself was breathtaking. Small, flowered trees were artistically placed throughout the courtyard, as were stone benches and glittering alabaster fountains.

He dipped a finger tentatively in the water, surprised to see tiny white and black fish swimming just under the surface. Roxas had always loved water. He let his fingertips ghost across the top.

'_I could see myself living here,'_ he realized as he stroked one of the bold fish that didn't flee from his touch. It was serene and peaceful, even in the midst of all the milling people.

'_Speaking of milling people...'_

Roxas snapped to attention, looking around. He realized with a sick churn in his stomach that everyone else had left, and the massive courtyard was barren.

'_No wonder it was so quiet!'_ he mentally kicked himself.

He took off at a trot, seeing no one and unsure of where to go. He couldn't even remember where Axel had been, or which direction the practice field was.

"Hey, Roxas Kudryavtsev-Monceaux," a familiar southern voice called out. "Are you lost?"

Roxas felt relief wash over him at the sight of Demyx. "Yes, completely. Where is everyone?" he asked, walking beside the sandy blonde.

"They're just getting ready for the next event. It's a balloon popping contest! We'll get there with plenty of time, don't you worry. Oh, and did you notice that I got your name right?" he questioned excitedly, clearly hoping to impress the boy.

Roxas was reminded of a puppy begging for attention. A sweet-eyed, mohawked/mulleted puppy. "Yeah, that's great. Half of my friends still don't get it right," he said with the smallest of smiles. "Are we almost there?"

"Yup. We decided to have this one out on the back field 'cause… well, we didn't want to get the practice field too messy, you know? Oh, here we are. See? They're just getting ready to start, you'd better run. Good luck," Demyx shouted as he jogged to his partner, a short brunette in an equally short yellow dress, who bounced joyously as Demyx approached her.

"Damn it, Rox. Where the hell were you?" Axel greeted him grumpily. "And why were you with Demyx? I'd call that fraternizing with the enemy."

"Shut up, Axel. What are we supposed to be doing, exactly?" he asked quizzically, seeing a number of large, balloon filled boxes lined up in rows.

"The team to finish popping all their balloons first wins," Axel said calmly, pulling a pair of goggles over his eyes. Roxas looked at him suspiciously.

"What are those for?" he asked, frowning.

Axel snickered. "Oh, wouldn't you like to know. But seriously, when we start, I want you to sit on as many balloons at once as your ass will allow, got it?"

Roxas opened his mouth to argue just as the starting horn sounded, and was pushed toward the balloon box by an eager Axel. The redhead tipped the cardboard box over, spilling the red and black balloons out onto the ground and stomping furiously at them. As the first one popped, Roxas figured out what the goggles were for.

"These are filled with shaving cream!" he shouted, simultaneously squashing one under his elbow as he sat on another.

"I know, isn't it great?" Axel replied happily, crawling over the ground on all fours and flattening any balloons within reach of his gangly body. He signaled Baralai when they had successfully destroyed every balloon from their box, only to find that four other teams had finished before them.

"Dammit," Axel muttered, ripping off his goggles and throwing them to the ground in defeat. Roxas couldn't contain his smile; Axel had shaving cream from nearly head to toe. His 'I'll-just-roll-all-over-those-infernal-balloons' strategy had left him significantly more disheveled and covered than anyone else, making him look a bit like a disgruntled, skinny snowman.

"This is not funny, Roxas," Axel said flatly, snorting to get the cream out of his nose. Roxas was laughing so hard that no noise came out, his mouth opened wide and his eyes squinted shut as he delighted in Axel's obvious annoyance.

"Whoa. Nice job, Ax. Nice job," Demyx congratulated him, holding up a hand for a high five. Axel narrowed his eyes. "Okay, okay, go ahead and leave me hangin'. It's not like I care," he shrugged. Demyx had a smattering of shaving cream covering his arms and legs, and a tiny bit on his back in the shape of a smiley face. "Smile!" he exclaimed cheerfully, pulling out a sleek, silver Polaroid camera and capturing the peeved Axel on film.

Demyx examined the photo after it exited the camera, humming to himself. "Oh yeah, baby. You're real photogenic, Ax," he said, grinning at the picture.

"Demyx," Axel growled, wiping the shaving cream from his mouth.

The mohawked blonde just smiled and pranced around the redhead, waving the picture wildly. "Shake it like a Polaroid picture, shake it," he sang, swaying his hips and dodging Axel's erratic attempts to snatch the photo from his hand.

By now Roxas' laughter had subsided and was replaced by a violent fit of the hiccups, something he always got after laughing too hard. Axel stopped his assault on Demyx to watch the blonde boy struggle to hold the hiccups in, each one getting louder than the last. Roxas' finally lay flat on the ground, chuckling to himself from time to time and massaging his face where it ached from laughing.

Axel doubled over, putting his hands on his knees and observing Roxas. "You know, kid, I don't think you did your fair share," he said slyly, a wicked smile spreading across his face.

"What are you talking about? I popped a ton of balloons," Roxas said stiffly, propping himself up on one arm to look up at Axel.

"You sure don't look like it," Axel said innocently, taking a step toward the blonde and spreading his cream covered hands.

Roxas' eyes widened. "Oh, no you don't," he said accusingly, climbing to his feet to run. But Axel's lengthy step and long reach worked against Roxas' favor, and he was pulled back against the tall man. Axel scraped shaving cream off of himself and wiped it through the blonde's hair, over his face, and down his neck, laughing all the while.

"I like this," Axel chuckled lowly. "This is fun." He released the younger boy, making sure to share as much of his shaving cream coating as possible.

"I don't think so," Roxas said, smearing the shaving cream on the sides of his face across his cheeks to hide the flourishing blush. "Look, I'm a mess now," he complained.

"A cute mess," Axel chirped, pinching one of Roxas' cream covered cheeks. "Don't worry, we'll just go wash off in the big fountain in front of the main building."

Roxas nodded, and looked up carefully to meet Axel's eyes, not trusting himself to speak. A flash from his left caught his attention.

"Aw, look at you two," Demyx cooed, waving another Polaroid shot happily. "Adorable. Darling. Loveable. Cute. Sweet… almost sickeningly so. Now let's go get clean, I hate the smell of shaving cream."

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**If that seems like an awkward stopping point, that's cause it is. I couldn't come up with a good ending, so I was all like, 'Hyah!' and just chopped it off right there. Let's see… I ended up separating this into two chapters, even though I'd wanted finish this section of the story already… yerg. It just won't end! Sorry in advance for errors and typos. I had to type this on my lappy, and it sucks horribly for writing.**

**I'm also a little worried that I write things that I think are funny, but it turns out they actually aren't. See, I base dialogue in here off of my conversations, and those tend to be pretty weird, so I get conflicted over whether something will make sense to others. **

**Uber thanks again to the wonderful, glorious reviewers. I love anyone that takes the time to read, but those that review make my inards all warm and fuzzy-- in a good way!**

**:p**


	3. Notes and glares

**Loves to the reviewers! Reviews are my crack, and you are my suppliers! (Bad analogy?) Please keep 'em comin', cause I'm addicted.**

"My heart was once a lover's swing that creaked

in wind of these calm fall days."

---Jimmy Santiago Baca

"I thought there would be grilled cheese," Sora said, crestfallen.

Cloud looked grimly over the small brunette's shoulder. "Me too. I hate it when they get our hopes up like that." He looked disdainfully at the tuna fish and PB&J sandwiches that lined the cheap, plastic table. "Where are the grilled cheese sandwiches?" he asked mournfully.

"Only seniors get grilled cheese, Strife," a striking brown haired man in leather replied, a gloved hand holding a paper plate with one of the coveted cheese sandwiches on it. Cloud's mouth dropped and his brow furrowed.

"What? That isn't fair, Leon. C'mon, just give us a sandwich," Cloud pleaded, making the saddest eyes he could muster. Sora stood behind the blonde, mimicking his pose and expression in the hopes that he would receive half of said grilled cheese sandwich.

Leon looked thoughtful. "No." He then turned on his heel and didn't look back.

Cloud watched the senior's retreating form until he was so surrounded by the scrambling crowd that he disappeared. "Heartless bastard," Cloud muttered angrily, grabbing blindly for one of the tuna fish sandwiches on the table to his right. "Next year, when I'm a senior, I'm going to get _two_ grilled cheese sandwiches. And I'll share with you, Sora," he added.

Sora beamed. "Sweet. So who was that?" he asked, grabbing a brown paper bag with a PB&J for himself. "I know he was partners with Riku, but what does he play? What's he like? He's really hot. Does he like guys? How did he get that scar on his face?" Sora questioned incessantly as he sat next to Cloud on the side of a grassy hill.

They were having a picnic style lunch, with the high school and university musicians mingling as they ate, relaxing and refueling after the competitions and exercise of the morning. Cloud lay flat out on the ground, blades of freshly cut grass getting caught in his bright yellow hair.

"You just saw what he's like. A total asshole. Don't know how he got the scar, but I don't really care. He _is_ hot, he _does_ like guys, and he plays trumpet, which is kind of sexy in its own right, but he's still an asshole," Cloud concluded, blowing the paper from his straw at Sora's face. "I've known Leon for three years and he hasn't been nice to me even once. Not that I'm bothered."

"Sounds familiar," Sora said dismally, thinking of Riku. Sure, the silver haired senior had never been mean to him, but he'd never been kind to the boy either. In fact, Riku mostly ignored him, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by Sora.

"Hm. It'll be okay, Sora," Cloud said softly, propping himself up on one elbow and ruffling the younger boy's hair. Sora basked in the attention, grinning as he crammed a handful of Oreos into his mouth. "Oh, there's Axel and that friend of yours," the blonde said excitedly, waving an arm to get their attention.

"They said there would be grilled cheese," the redhead murmured unhappily as he sat on the grass next to them.

"Get over it," Roxas said coldly, biting into his tuna fish. "It's just a sandwich."

Axel and Sora gasped, and Cloud frowned. Roxas rolled his eyes, all too used to being the sole voice of sanity in nearly every situation. As Roxas had found out when he met Sora's partner earlier, Cloud was just as odd as the rest of the RGU band members.

"I can't believe we didn't win anything," Axel moped, recalling the events following the balloon popping contest earlier. "I had a good feeling about this year, too." He picked mournfully at his PB&J sandwich, eating only after being pinned with one of Roxas' threatening glares.

"You're too skinny," the blonde boy admonished, waving the dill pickle that came with his sandwich at the redhead sternly. "You. Will. Eat," he said, punctuating each word with a poke of the pickle.

"Ew, I hate pickles. Get that thing out of my face, it's making me gag," Axel gasped, making choking sounds and covering his face.

"You're lying," Roxas said dismissively.

"Actually, he's not," Cloud interjected. "Demyx and I poured pickle juice on him once, and it made him throw up. Gross," he added, looking at the redhead as though it was his fault for not controlling his intensely negative reaction.

"Very gross," Axel agreed, sighing with relief when Roxas finally ate the offensive pickle. "Where's that hyper little friend of yours, Roxas? He was here a second ago," he said quietly, scanning the surrounding field and the nearby tent for Sora.

"If I know Sora, he's stolen our deserts and is hiding somewhere while he eats them," Roxas said loudly, a small smile creeping onto his face.

"Am not!" an indignant voice shouted from the opposite side of the hill they were sitting on. Cloud peeked over the top of the hill and saw a huddled Sora surrounded by empty bags and wrappers, chocolate and cookie crumbs covering his cheeks and hands. Sora looked up sadly, knowing he'd been caught in the act.

"It doesn't look that way to me, candy-klepto," Cloud remarked, smiling softly and easily dodging an empty bag that the boy hurled at him.

"Sectionals, sectionals, sectionals," Axel said dryly. "I hate sectionals."

"I thought you liked being a drummer," Sora said, confusion drawn over his highly expressive face. The four were walking back to the art building of the main campus, where they would finish the rest of the day practicing music in their respective sections.

"I'm not a drummer, I'm a percussionist," Axel said huffily. Cloud snorted, earning an annoyed glare from the redhead. "There's a difference. And yes, I do like it. It's just the cocky, loud, unpleasant people I have to work with that I hate."

"Drummers do have that reputation," Cloud acknowledged, ignoring the peeved look that Axel sent his way. They stopped at the building's door, and Cloud scanned the list to find which rooms they were to be meeting in.

Roxas studied the outside of the large building as they waited. "Ansem Hall… Why is this building called Ansem Hall?" he asked, pointing to the swirling cursive script on the dark brick wall.

"Ansem Avant funded the arts program here, so he gets his name put on everything," Axel said offhandedly, moving to look over Cloud's shoulder at the list.

"Okay," Cloud muttered, pushing Axel away from him with his shoulder. "Flutes go to room 201, clarinets to 117, percussion… room 100, and trombones--that's me-- go to 215." Cloud pushed through the large glass doors, nearly shuddering in pleasure as the cool air hit him full force. The four walked blissfully into the air conditioned hall.

"Ah, that was nice," Sora breathed happily, taking in the massive exquisiteness of the art building. It was just as elegant and decorative as the rest of the campus, with polished floors, carved walls, and painted ceilings.

"Wow," Roxas and Sora said in unison. Roxas ran his fingers lightly over the pictures in relief that covered the walls. The images spanned everything from fantastic dragons and snow covered peaks to scenes of war and destruction.

"I know," Axel said, smiling. "At first I thought it was just over the top, like everything else around here, but it grew on me. The walls never used to look like this, you know. It wasn't until Ansem and a few other alumni made fortunes that they decided to renovate this place."

Cloud tapped the wall lightly as he passed. "The head art professor here did this-- most of it anyway. Maybe you'll get to meet him later. He teaches lots of weekend classes for high school students. He mainly does painting and stuff, but he sometimes covers classes on design and sculpting, too."

"Funny as hell, too," Axel added, smirking. "He's the most fucking amazing teacher I've ever had. Oh great, here's my room," he grumbled. He fumbled in his pockets before pulling out two small, yellow earplugs.

Cloud frowned. "I've never seen you wear plugs before," he said, pulling the bits of yellow foam from the redhead's hand and examining them.

Axel yanked them back. "I usually don't. I've been playing drums for ten years now, and God knows I'm half deaf from it. But it's common knowledge that if you fill a room with enough drums and people, there will be a fuckload of noise. Duh," he said crossly, putting the earplugs in. He pulled open the heavy wooden door and a blast of sound hit the four, making Sora squeal as he covered his ears and Roxas flinch as he did the same.

"Have fun, Ax," Cloud said over the clamor, blowing the redhead a kiss.

Axel replied with a none-too-polite hand gesture and stomped into the room, pulling the massive door shut behind him. Roxas could hear crashing and cursing from behind the closing door as the man brought order to the room.

"Okay, Roxas," Cloud said happily, ignoring the still audible shouts and screams from room 100, "your room is right down the hall. Go frolic with your fellow clarinetists." Roxas gave him a blank stare before turning to leave, muttering under his breath.

"Where am I supposed to go, Cloud?" Sora asked urgently after waving a quick goodbye to Roxas.

"Your room's right by mine, and it's upstairs," Cloud replied, gesturing to an imposing staircase at the end of the hall. "I'll race you," the blonde challenged mischievously, taking a head start toward the stairs.

"And I'll kick your ass," Sora answered, sticking one of his abnormally large feet in front of the running blonde, bringing him swiftly to the floor. The brunette jogged up the stairs and stuck out his tongue at Cloud as he lay flat on the tiled floor.

The blonde looked up and mimicked the brunette, winking. "You'd better keep running, Bigfoot," he threatened, pushing himself up and rushing toward the frantic, giggling Sora at the top of the stairs.

Paine glared at Roxas. Roxas glared back. Each seemed to have met their match in the glaring department.

"You missed the A sharp," Paine said flatly, brushing a hand through her silvery brown hair to sweep loose strands back up into her fauxhawk.

"Did not," Roxas protested amid the giggles of the rest of the room's occupants. He sensed that few ever argued with Paine, which was probably wise, given that she was first chair and the clarinet section leader. "It wasn't me, so you must have misheard," he argued.

Paine narrowed her crimson eyes at the blonde, looking ready to impale him with the pointy end of her clarinet. "Let's continue, then," she said tersely, instantly silencing the whispers and quiet laughter of the others.

'_This is going to drag on and on and on,'_ Roxas told himself grimly. _'I can't believe it, but I agree with Axel. Sectionals suck.'_

"All I'm sayin' is that you would look like… a billion times cooler, Ax!" Demyx cried happily, winding his fingers through the red hair. The lowering sun gave an orange tint to everything it touched, making the bright green foliage look golden and transparent. Groups of students trailed away from the campus and toward the parking lot, ready to start the drive home.

"No, Dem. I will not argue with you about this anymore, do you hear? And if you come near me with a pair of scissors or a razor, physical force on my part will be justified," Axel threatened, prying the blonde's hands from his head. Roxas approached the two quietly, standing just close enough to hear and just far enough to stay out of immediate sight.

"Aw, c'mon. Just buzz the sides and then… oh, I dunno. Some liberty spikes. Hell yeah! You'd look great with some of those," Demyx said, eyes glowing at the possibility of coercing his friend into getting a mohawk.

"Yeah, I'm totally going to take hairstyle advice from a guy with the mutant offspring of a mullet and a mohawk on his head," Axel said sarcastically, turning and seeing Roxas half hiding behind a shrub. He waved the boy over while simultaneously slapping Demyx's hands away from his hair.

"Um, hello? It's called a mollet," Demyx said loudly, flipping his hair dramatically. "You're just jealous."

Axel turned to the smaller blonde, completely ignoring Demyx and his hair flipping antics. "Hey, Roxy."

Demyx looked up. "Hey, Roxas! How was the clarinet thingy with Paine?"

Roxas remained silent.

"Ah," Axel said, smiling, "that means it was bad. I guess you and Paine aren't the best of friends, eh?"

"Has word gotten around already?" Roxas asked. He swung his clarinet case back and forth gently.

"Hell yeah," Demyx confirmed excitedly. "Word is out, man. Did you really bitch slap her?"

"What the hell? No, nobody got slapped. Is that what they're saying about me? Is Paine saying that? Who does she think she is?" Roxas questioned furiously, getting more worked up with each second.

Axel stepped between the two. "Ignore Demyx. There's a reason no one listens to him anymore. He's a shit-starter," Axel explained, paying no mind to Demyx's insulted expression. "Besides, I wanted to talk to you," the redhead said quietly, putting a hand on Roxas' shoulder and guiding him to a vine covered arbor in one of the university's many gardens.

"You came over here to say bye, right?" Axel asked softly, smiling as he sat on an elegant stone bench beneath a small, leafy tree.

Roxas nodded, putting a hand against the back of his neck nervously. "I just wanted to say that… I had a good time today. Even when you sat on me," he blushed at the thought, "and when you made fun of me, and when we did the games and stuff, and even when I complained. I liked it, really. So thanks." Roxas paused and looked around, unsure of what to say next.

"No problem," Axel said with a grin. He pulled out a nearly empty pack of cigarettes, taking and lighting one before continuing. "I had fun, too. So much fun, in fact, that I wouldn't mind doing it again," he said hopefully, looking up at the blonde. "You should stop by sometime."

"Oh," Roxas said dumbly. He didn't know if Axel meant this in the way he secretly hoped he meant it, but Roxas was going to take him up on the offer either way. "Yeah, sure, that would be great," he said enthusiastically, doing a poor job of covering up his excitement. "I could come by next weekend, probably."

"Really? That'd be perfect. Here," the redhead said quickly, standing and digging in his pockets. He pulled out a crumpled piece of red paper and put it in Roxas' hand, giving him a quick wave and trotting off before the boy had a chance to unfold it or ask what it was.

Roxas began walking to the parking lot, where he guiltily knew Sora was waiting for him. He opened the paper and read it over.

_914-3706_

_My phone number! Call me anytime before eight. Or after eight, if you need to. It's fine with me. Just call whenever you feel like it. No time restrictions whatsoever. You can text me too! If you want. _

_FBIagentMacKenna _

_My email. Don't laugh! It's an inside joke that I WILL explain to you later. I check my email like 400 times a day. And I like to forward lame internet jokes._

_657_

_My dorm room number. Just in case you ever want to pop in or anything. (wink wink) Awfully close to 666, isn't it?_ _Dem and I share. His side is covered with punk and country music posters, so you can tell what stuff is mine. _

_Lennan_

_My middle name, just in case you wanted to know. It's Irish, go figure. My Ma was pretty big on "embracing our proud heritage". (That was her justification for making us eat potatoes and cabbage twice a week.)_

_I guess that's it. Call/email/visit soon! You can come over and we can play all kinds of juvenile pranks on Cloud and Demyx while they're sleeping and it'll be totally awesome and loads of fun fun fun! _

_And Cloud told me to tell you to tell Sora, "I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE". I have no idea. Cloudy says it's something about getting tripped, and then chasing and catching Sora, and Sora biting him, and something else. I stopped paying attention._

_Have a great week, Roxy!_

A number of smiley faces and hearts and stick people filled the margins of the note. Roxas smiled as he saw one of the stick figures was labeled with his name, holding a turtle and a tube of cookie dough.

"Roxas. Roxaaaaas," Sora drawled, waving a hand up and down in front of his friend's face. "If you don't answer me in the next five seconds, you'll end up riding home in my trunk," Sora said tonelessly as he slid into the driver's seat of his rusty, red '66 Chevy Impala.

"Okay, okay," Roxas replied quickly, knowing better than to take chances with an angry Sora. He stuck the paper in his pocket and clambered into the car. "What's got you so pissed?"

Sora sighed and leaned back against the tanned leather of the seat. "Riku. What else?"

Roxas nodded and rubbed his friend's shoulder. "He's ignoring you again. It's okay, Sora. He's not worth it," he said determinedly. "Forget him." Roxas didn't have anything personal against the senior, but if Riku's lack of caring was upsetting Sora this much, he was going to set things straight. No more Mr. Nice Roxas.

"No, no, no. It's not that. It's the total opposite now!" Sora exclaimed, beating the dashboard in frustration. It squeaked furiously in protest, making Roxas examine it worriedly. Sora's car wasn't exactly sturdy. "While you were off doing whatever the hell you were doing, Riku walked by and-and-and… I don't know. It's like he hated me! He stared at me the whole time he was walking to the parking lot. And it was not a good stare," Sora added in the hurried, choppy tone he tended to use when he was anxious.

"Maybe you still have shaving cream on your back or something," Roxas reasoned. "Or maybe he saw the new headlights on the Chevy and got jealous."

"Somehow, I doubt Riku and his Mercedes are jealous of my new, functioning headlights," Sora said dryly. He sighed loudly and turned the ignition. The car cranked to life with a loud roar and a lot of sputtering. He quickly pulled out of the nearly empty parking lot, rolling over the curb more than once.

"Let's stop and get ice cream," Roxas suggested, clutching the door handle as Sora swerved to dodge a squirrel. He could see Sora brighten just from hearing the words.

"Sweet! That's a great idea. It's the best idea you've ever had, Rox. I'm going to get three- no, four!- scoops. Mint chocolate, strawberry, pistachio, and cookies n' cream. Or maybe cookie dough. Yum," the brunette said, mostly to himself.

Roxas looked out the window and laughed as Sora continued muttering about the flavors of ice cream he would get. He fingered the note in his pocket contentedly, already eager for next weekend.

**Hahaha. Sorry. That took longer than I'd expected, cause my family is here from England for Easter, and they keep hogging MY computer. Blarg. Sorry if it came out choppy or rushed, but I get ahead of myself sometimes. I want to get to the good stuff! **

**Answering questions! I try to answer whatever questions I get when I reply to reviews and stuff, but I figure I might as well put some of the ones others might want to know up here:**

**1) Will there be more Sora?**

I think so. Yes, yes I do. I love RikuSora, but I don't think I've got it quite down yet, so I'm still deciding on how in depth I want to go with them. I also tend to plan out certain scenes in advance, and I'm working on a good one for Sora and Riku.

**2) Shaving cream balloons?**

Hell yeah. It was going to be water balloons, but that wasn't nearly messy enough.

**3) Pronouncing Roxas' last name?**

I will be honest. I don't know how to do the first part. It's Russian, and I do not know it. Monceaux is like c'mon, without the C, and ceaux is like so, and that is all I know. I tried to use names I heard while I was in Louisiana… eh. Oh well.

**I love writing these things. Can you tell? I'm planning on including Cid in the next chapter. Yay! Be prepared for the cursing level to skyrocket. **

**I know I ask too much, but please review! **


	4. Painted Faces

**As always, thanks to the people that read and review. One day I'll have to do shout-outs or something.** **Also, Cid makes his debut in this chapter. Yay for language! This is where the M rating kicks in, folks.**

"Autumn chants my visions to sleep,

And travels me back to back into a night

When I could touch stars and believe in myself…"

---Jimmy Santiago Baca

"Yarg."

"Roxas, 'yarg' isn't even a word. For someone who gets straight A's in English, you have pretty sucky vocabulary skills," Kairi said dully, plopping her head against the table.

"Fine. By 'yarg' I meant 'Gee, I really, really, intensely dislike study hall'. Is that better?" he asked exasperatedly. It was a rhetorical question.

But Kairi answered it anyway. "Yes. It is."

She brushed her long, deep red hair back over her shoulder and crossed her legs. Tidus sat at the book covered table with them, trying in vain to balance a pencil on his nose.

"You'll poke your eye out," Kairi warned as she dug through her purse. She pulled out a tiny highlighter and began writing on her physics notes.

"Psh, I only need one anyway," Tidus argued as he tempted fate once again by standing the sharpened pencil on his nose by the eraser.

"Yeah," Roxas agreed. "Depth perception is for losers, right?" he asked sarcastically.

"You got it, Roxas!" the athletic blonde agreed.

Roxas looked impatiently to the clock, willing it to go faster. Friday afternoons always seemed to drag. He was distracted by a flash of plaid from Kairi's skirt as she stood and walked over to the librarian's desk to return a book. Kairi, like Roxas, was skilled at finding ways to evade Twilight High's uniform code and inject individuality into her outfit. While Roxas opted for checkered bracelets and shoelaces and pins, she chose fluorescent bangles and henna tattoos and colored tights-- anything to stand out in the crowd.

"So," Kairi drawled as she returned to the table, "what are you going to do this weekend, Roxas?"

"Uh, well," he stammered uncertainly. "I was thinking about going back to RGU. You know, to check it out. And stuff. I might end up going there."

Tidus giggled, and Kairi smiled and folded her hands. "Then it doesn't have anything to do with that hottie Axel?" she asked innocently.

"What?" Roxas burst out, instantly getting a dark scowl from the librarian. "What?" he repeated in a hushed voice.

"You know what," she countered giddily. "Come on, Roxas. We're not blind, deaf, and dumb. You two would be so cute," she squealed, dancing happily in her seat. "Although I am slightly jealous. Did you call him yet? Or send an email?"

"No," he said sadly, putting his head in his hands. "I was scared. What am I supposed to say? You know how bad I am at crap like that."

"Yeah, you're freaking horrible at intimate social conversations," Tidus confirmed.

Roxas kicked him under the table.

"Good job," Kairi congratulated Roxas, shooting Tidus a dark, squinty-eyed glare. "But seriously, you and Axel would be adorable! Plus, Axel is a fellow redhead. That means he's instantly cool."

"But is that his real color?" Tidus questioned, arching an eyebrow. "You have to ask yourself these things." Then he went back to balancing the pencil on the tip of his nose.

Kairi smiled wickedly. "That's for Roxas to find out." She winked at the boy.

"I'll get right on it," the blonde said sarcastically, trying hopelessly to hide his blush behind a calculus book. The bell rang with a shrill clamor, startling the three and making Tidus' pencil do what it had been threatening to do all period.

"Shit! My eye," he whined, covering his left eye and whimpering. "Don't worry, no one call an ambulance. I'll be okay. I'm a trooper."

"Maybe you'll get to wear an eye patch like Gippal now," Roxas teased. "You always did have a thing for pirates, right?"

"Ha. Ha. Ha," Tidus said bitterly. "Just go visit your man-friend and let me heal my wounds in peace, would you?"

Sora smiled as he walked down the emptying hallway, carrying only his chemistry book and an assortment of graded papers. School was out, he had his last, glorious practice-free weekend ahead of him, he was going to a Red Hot Chili Peppers concert with Cloud later on, and he was looking forward to stopping by Dairy Queen on the way home for a chocolate milkshake. Yep, everything was looking up for Sora.

Until the floor and gravity conspired to bring him down. Hard.

"Holy shit," he grumbled from the polished, lemon-scented floor, still startled from the sudden and unexpected fall. One second he was walking, and the next he was flat on his back with an aching head and the sensation of putting his face into a bucket of citrus fruits. The papers he had been holding fluttered to the ground beside him. "Man down," he whined, covering his face with one lightly tanned arm.

He heard quiet footsteps and the rustling of paper. "I'll say," an amused voice agreed quietly.

Sora uncovered his face and sat up. His heart went into overtime, first skipping a beat and then lurching forward quickly. He knew that voice. "Riku? You-you saw me slip?"

'_Oh my God. Oh my God. Clumsy clumsy clumsy, stupid,'_ Sora mentally cursed his large feet and lack of observation. An intensely bright and obvious blush covered his face.

Riku nodded slightly, not meeting the other boy's eyes. "Yep. Maybe you should look down more often," he advised. He knelt and began carefully stacking the spilled papers, silvery hair breezing lightly over his shoulders as he leaned forward to reach them.

"I was distracted." Sora brushed the papers into a large, disorderly pile, crunching and crinkling them carelessly. Riku looked horrified at the disorganization.

"I could tell. Were you thinking of someone?" Riku's voice stayed soft but his aquamarine eyes narrowed slightly accusingly.

"No," Sora said defensively. He pouted. "Well, maybe. Yeah. I guess so. But I was mostly thinking of ice cream." He stood up next to the senior after collecting the last of the papers.

"I see. Did you have fun last Saturday? It looked like you did," Riku said with a frown.

"Tons of fun. You were with that Leon guy, right? He looked cool!" Sora stooped to pick up the thick chemistry book that lay on the ground.

"He is, actually. We have a lot in common."

"Really? So do Cloud and I. We like all the same bands, like the Chili Peppers and Cake and stuff," Sora babbled. "We're going to a concert tonight, too. It'll be great! I should probably call him soon," he muttered, biting his lip.

Riku opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it. He shoved the stack of papers into Sora's hands roughly. "Here, and watch where you're going next time," he said acidly, pushing past the brunette and taking long, angry strides down the empty hallway.

Sora watched him walk away and then slapped himself in the face with the sizeable chunk of paper. "Why is he so hard to understand?" he asked himself. "First he ignores me, then he gives me the evil-eye, and then he's freaking helpful-angry!" Sora leaned against the lockers that lined the hall and continued talking to himself. "But he did help me with all the crap I dropped. That was nice of him. That's a step in the right direction." A smile spread over Sora's features as he let his fanatical crush take control.

'_Hah, he touched it! He touched this paper! Yay, I'll never wash this again-- not that I ever washed it in the first place. But I certainly won't start washing my tests now, that's for sure. This is getting framed. Good thing it's a ninety-eight.'_ He happily clutched the Riku-fied papers to his chest, his good mood restored.

Roxas raised his hand to the wooden door of the dorm room, pausing when he thought he heard singing. He lowered his hand and pressed his ear to the door curiously. The voice was muffled but still distinguishable-- Demyx.

"_I can't believe he's so trusting, while I'm right behind you, thrusting. Fiona's got him on the phone, and she's trying not to moan. It's a three way call, and he knows nothing, nothing… Scotty doesn't know, Scotty doesn't know, Scotty doesn't know, don't tell Scotty, 'cause Scotty doesn't know, Scotty doesn't know. So don't tell Scotty!"_

Roxas rolled his eyes and knocked on the door furiously, knowing he had to compete to make himself heard over Demyx and his music.

"Demyx, stop singing and open the door," he shouted at the door. "Dem--"

The door swung open and the molleted blonde stood casually in the doorway, grinning. He had apparently just taken a shower; his normally spiky hair lay limp against his head and his clothes clung lightly to his still damp body. "So you actually decided to come? Frickin' awesome!" He herded Roxas into the room, smiling and hopping from foot to foot as he turned down his stereo's volume.

"Yeah. Oh. Uh, there's only one bed?" Roxas asked carefully as he glanced the room over, now wondering about the nature of Axel and Demyx's relationship.

"Huh? No, silly. Mine's right here," Demyx said cheerfully in his southern accent, gesturing to a mountainous pile of books, clothes, food wrappers, and sheet music. "It's a little messy right now, but I usually push this stuff onto the floor before I fall asleep. The bed is underneath."

"Uh-huh." Roxas glanced around the room, surprised by the clear separation between the two halves. The side he guessed was Axel's was fairly neat and tidy, with just a few empty coke and beer bottles littering the floor and dirty laundry piled at the foot of the bed. A world map, labeled with sites of major archaeological finds in the last century, was pinned to the wall above his small red and orange bed. Demyx's side of the room was something akin to a post-tornado trailer park. "Your side is kind of…a mess."

"I prefer the term 'controlled chaos'. But yes, it is. My therapist says I have a creative mind and that I find comfort in disorder." Demyx perched on the edge of his buried bed and flipped open a magazine. "Ax isn't here right now. He didn't know if or when you were coming for sure, so he went to finish something or other." He chewed his lip and frowned. "I think he was expectin' you to call or something."

"I know, I know. I was nervous, and I kept putting it off. And then I got here," he said worriedly, still peeved at his own ineptness. "When will he be back?" Roxas felt awkward enough standing in someone else's room, but _alone_ with _Demyx_?

"I dunno." Demyx chewed his lip thoughtfully. "We could go see him, if you want. He's in the art building with Cid," he told Roxas, standing and pulling the quiet blonde up and toward the door.

"Are you sure he won't mind?" Roxas asked as Demyx shut and locked the door.

"Nah, it's no big thing," Demyx assured him as they went down the stairs and crossed the yard between the dorms and the rest of the campus. Roxas was once again enraptured by the landscape of Radiant Garden. They walked in silence through a row of blooming trees, across a stone bridge over a small pond, and past a latticed gate covered in ivy. Small, yellow flowers littered the ground, forming a golden carpet through the gardens.

They approached the imposing Ansem Hall, a dark bricked building surrounded by rose bushes and honeysuckle. Demyx bounded up the stairs ahead of Roxas, holding open the heavy glass door politely for the younger blonde.

"I still can't get over this place," Roxas whispered, in awe all over again. "And the head art professor here did all of this?" He looked admiringly at a collage that filled a section of wall next to the entrance.

"Pretty much. And you're about to meet him! He cusses like he's been doin' it since the day he was born, but don't let that turn you off. He's a great guy." Demyx stopped in front of a tarnished steel door and placed his hand lightly over the handle. "Oh, and call him Cid. Don't even say 'professor'."

He cracked the door and slid into the back of the room, pulling Roxas inside by the hem of his shirt. The door slammed shut behind them, causing a few heads to turn, but leaving the two mostly unnoticed. Half of the expansive room was filled with tables, at which a number of teenagers sat with sketchbooks at the ready. The rest of the room was fairly empty, occupied sparsely by easels, chalk boards, and shelves lined with magazines and drying canvases. A gruff looking blonde paced at the front of the room, finishing a lecture about acrylics.

Roxas quickly spotted Axel, thanks to his flaming red hair, leaning against the wall to his left. Several other university students stood with him, watching the blonde man-- Cid, he guessed-- as he started explaining the goal of the class.

"Shut the hell up and listen," he said loudly. "I won't fucking stand for goddamn talking while I'm speaking. You're all here as part of some damn fundraiser for your fucking high school, and I'm supposed to help you do some goddamn art project to auction off at a parent-teacher meeting thing." Cid paused to put a toothpick in his mouth. "I hate shit like this. Fucking _hate_ it. But you're here, and I'm fucking here, so let's get the shit done."

He stopped and placed his hands on his hips, chewing idly on the toothpick between his teeth. "We're going to make a goddamn quilt. I've done this before, so I know it fucking works. The parents eat corny shit like that up. You paint me some fucking squares, and I'll sew the little bastards together, and we'll have us a damn fine quilt to sell at that auction. If you're gonna half-ass it, and you fucking _know_ you're gonna half-ass it, just get the hell out. I don't have the time for shitty art. Questions so far?"

One of the RGU students coughed.

"Guess not," Cid continued, talking around the pick in his mouth. "Alright, let's lay down some guidelines. This fucker will be seen by the PTO, so listen closely; if it is fucking illegal for your age in _this_ country-- don't start giving me shit about what's legal in the goddamn Netherlands-- I don't want it fucking depicted on this quilt, got it? No sexual acts, no fucking drugs, no alcohol, and _no_ bestiality."

The class snickered.

"You laugh, but I get one every fucking year." Cid laid his hands on the table in front of him and leaned forward. "Now get started. Paint is in the corner, cloth squares are in the cabinet. If you need help, just holler."

The room broke into movement, with all of the high school students scurrying to get to work and appease Cid. Roxas felt a hand grasp his and pull.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," Demyx said excitedly. "Let's go surprise Ax and Rinoa. Did you meet her on Saturday?" Demyx didn't wait for a reply and began weaving through easels and tables and people. He stopped directly in front of Axel and the pretty brunette he was talking to.

"Hey, Ax. Hey, Rinoa." Demyx winked at the girl and nudged his head to the side. Rinoa smiled and left with the blonde, leaving Axel and Roxas for the most part alone. Roxas looked around the room shyly, not wanting to meet the redhead's eyes. The room's walls were covered in murals filled with airplanes and other aircraft.

Axel put his hands on the table behind him and leaned back on it casually. "You came. You know, calling would have been helpful. Any form of communication at all would have been helpful, actually," he said lightly, looking at the floor. "For all I knew, you had found me entirely too creepy and never wanted to see me again."

"I didn't think about that," Roxas said apologetically. He hadn't imagined that Axel would be so upset over him not calling or emailing. "I was worried… about what to say. I didn't want to call or email and say something stupid. Sorry."

"No, it's okay," Axel said, clearly brightening now that he knew Roxas wasn't avoiding him. "You wanna help me?" he asked, gesturing to a number of paint tubes and brushes on the table behind him.

"With the quilt thing? Sure," Roxas said, shrugging.

"Psh, hell no. I'd never get roped into doing something that retarded. I'm just going to finish a painting I started last year." Axel grinned and stared at the blonde boy.

Roxas fidgeted as the seconds went on and Axel continued to stare. "Are you going to go get the painting?"

The redhead blinked. "Huh? Oh! Oh, yeah," he smiled sheepishly and slid around Roxas. He came back a few seconds later with an enormous canvas held above his head. Roxas reached up to help Axel set the large painting down, only to come up several inches short.

Axel burst into laughter. "Nice try, Roxy. You know what they used to call me in high school? The Jolly Green Giant. But I must say, height does have its advantages." He smirked, holding the painting just out of reach of Roxas, who was now hopping in a hopeless attempt to get it. "Okay, okay… don't hurt yourself, kiddo," Axel chuckled, laying the canvas down on the table.

Roxas pouted. "I almost had it," he said stubbornly.

"Whatever you say." Axel began measuring out paint onto a styrofoam plate, pouring equal amounts of deep blues and fiery yellows. Roxas actually looked for the first time at the picture that covered the large canvas.

It was a skyline, with a setting sun on one side and rising moon on the other. The city's skyscrapers had been painted with detailed care, each window and ledge conforming to the unique style he'd used for each individual building. Some were decrepit tenant buildings, stained and cracked. Others were sleek, bold business offices and architectural marvels, inspired by elegant gothic designs. All that was left to paint was the sky.

"That's amazing," Roxas said incredulously. "I would never, ever have expected you to do something this… good."

"Thanks, I think," Axel said with a smile and something close to a blush. He dipped a small brush into the golden yellow and lined the horizon where the sun was setting.

"So why are you still working on it? I know it's complicated, but it shouldn't have taken over a year."

Axel paused mid-stroke. "Some shit came up last year with my family. It really messed me up for awhile," he said simply. "This kind of got left by the wayside… among other things. I ended up doing something else for my final, but I liked this enough to want to do it right. And finish it."

Roxas bit his lip to stifle the questions he was burning to ask. "Oh."

"Yeah. Cid really helped me out then. He's really a softie at heart," Axel said, laughing softly.

"Don't make me fucking gag, MacKenna," a rough voice said from behind them. Roxas jumped and turned to see Cid watching over Axel's shoulder. "Nice job, though," he said, nodding toward the painting.

"I know," the redhead answered smugly.

Cid rubbed at the rough golden stubble that covered his chin. "Yeah, and don't you fucking dare get a swelled ego. God knows I have to put up with enough goddamn temperamental artists around here."

"This is Roxas," Axel interrupted, pointing to the blonde with his brush. "He plays clarinet in Twilight High's band. Don't you think he's cute?"

"MacKenna, I told you not to make me gag. I don't mind what you're into, but don't fucking tell me about it." He put a hand on Roxas' shoulder. "Nice to meet you, kid. But let me tell you something damn important-- stay away from this bastard," he said solemnly, pointing at Axel.

"Okay, okay, you can go away now," Axel said, cutting Cid off and shoving him away. "You're poisoning Roxas' mind. Stop turning him against me."

"Stop being such a fag," Cid replied without missing a beat. "What the fuck would your mother say?"

"Psh, like I care. Besides, what Ma doesn't know can't hurt her, right? She's got my brother to give her grandkids and whatnot." Axel said with shrug.

"Your mom doesn't know?" Roxas asked disbelievingly.

"Roxy, if my Ma found out, you would never see me again, 'cause she'd kill me. Or worse, she'd send me to Father O'Connell for counseling. That's scary stuff. Therefore, she will never know."

Cid snorted as he took a seat on a stool next to the table. "Good luck with that," he muttered, nibbling on his toothpick.

"Why are you chewing on a toothpick?" Roxas blurted, biting his lip as soon as the words were out.

Cid ran a hand covered with dried paint through his messy, blonde hair. "You ask a hell of a lot of questions, kid. I gave up smoking two months ago. I always used to have a damn cigarette in my mouth, so I needed something new to take its place."

"Hmmm, I could make a very impolite comment at your expense right now, but I won't," Axel said, smiling. He nudged Roxas in the side, who retaliated and slapped his hand. Hard.

Cid smiled and slapped Roxas on the back approvingly. "Thata boy. You keep that fucker in line. Don't be afraid to push him around a little. He's resilient. He can handle it."

Axel laughed, squeezing his eyes shut and thumping one hand against the table. "Roxas, push me around? Right. Right. That's hilarious, Cid."

Roxas scowled and dipped a finger in the blue paint. "Consider this revenge for the shaving cream incident," he said with a smile, swiping the paint across Axel's face. Axel's mouth parted slightly as Roxas trailed the cool, paint covered finger slowly against his burning, almost blushing skin; over his cheekbone, up the side of his face, and back down his long, finely shaped nose. The blonde let out the breath he'd been unconsciously holding when he pulled back his hand.

"Oookay," Cid said lowly as he stood. "Your freakish sexual tension is making me uncomfortable, so I'll just leave before you two start humping on the table or some shit." He started to walk away, but returned a second later, pointing a menacing finger at Axel. "And the humping thing was _not_ an invitation, MacKenna. This is a fucking G-rated classroom."

Roxas snorted and buried his head in his arms, shaking slightly with laughter. Axel grinned at Cid and shooed him away. The unshaven blonde flipped up his middle finger as he left, cursing at the students in his path as he crossed the room.

"Nice job," Axel laughed. He put a hand against his face and lightly felt the drying paint. "You surprise me, Roxas."

"Thanks. I try to," the boy said as he lifted his head. "If I don't keep things exciting, you'll get bored and leave me. I'm too quiet sometimes. And I'm sort of boring." Roxas picked at some dried paint on the table.

"Bullshit. You're just fine," Axel huffed, resuming his meticulous painting. "You're a little quiet, but in a good way. I'd rather have to dig and find stuff out than just have you put it all out there. You may think you're uninteresting, but I think there's a lot more to you than you might be aware of." He smiled thoughtfully as he traced the sky around the sun with golden rays.

"I don't think so. I'm a shallow puddle. You've seen all there is to see, and if I don't keep surprising you with face-painting and other random acts, you'll move on," Roxas said with downcast eyes, although he was smiling.

"Will not," Axel argued, his eyebrows knitting together and frowning. "And you're most certainly _not_ a puddle. You're a lake," he exclaimed, waving his arms for emphasis. "You just don't let anyone see that far into you-- or at least not many."

Roxas hid his smile behind folded hands. "How perceptive of you."

"Yep. But I'm planning on being an archaeologist, remember? I've got to have a keen eye," the redhead said, winking. "Who knows? Maybe one day you'll trust me enough to let me in."

"Maybe," Roxas said hopefully. "I'd like that, actually."

"I'd like that, too." Axel grinned and poked the blonde in the nose with his brush, leaving a bright yellow dot on the tip of his nose. "I'm done for today," he said with a satisfied sigh, gesturing to the painting.

"Looks nice," Roxas complimented. He moved around the table to get a better view. "So what do you want to do now?"

"Well, I'm sure Demyx is back at the dorm room by now, dancing and singing half naked, so we don't want to go back there. And everyone else is probably already in town," Axel said mostly to himself. He put one arm against the table and leaned on it, looking around the room as he thought. Roxas let an amused smirk cross his lips when he saw Axel's face light up-- the redhead had obviously decided what to do with the afternoon. "Do you want to go out for some lunch? It's already one, so most of the places should be pretty empty by the time we get into town. There's this great Mediterranean place on Main Street," he said excitedly. "Do you like Mediterranean?" he asked curiously as he cleaned up his painting area.

"Never really had it," Roxas said, shrugging. "But I'm willing to try anything once."

"Oh, really?" Axel asked, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Roxas slapped his arm lightly. "But really, you have an open mind, and I like that."

"Yeah, yeah. Now can we go?" Roxas whined impatiently. "Do you have a car?" he asked as he scrubbed his nose clean of the yellow paint.

"Yes and yes, but we're walking," he said as he put up his brushes and moved the massive canvas to a secluded shelf where it would be safe from harm. "It's only fifteen minutes away, and today's weather is perfect. The news channel said it shouldn't get above a hundred. And there's a breeze and everything!"

"Oh, joy."

**Another chapter! (And another long AN!) Sorry if there are any typos. I read through it and didn't see any, but I've been known to make mistakes. A lot, in fact. And the song Demyx sings is Scottie Doesn't Know, and it belongs to the band Lustra. So it doesn't belong to me. Had to squeeze that in somewhere!**


	5. Of Hummus and Chili Peppers

**Okay, I lied. It's easier for me to write 10 pages of Musica than it is to do 3 pages of Runner. Hence, this one's getting updated first. Thank you always to reviewers! You make staying up late to write this totally worth it.**

"…your eyes have their silence:

in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,

or which I cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me

though I have closed myself…"

--- E. E. Cummings

Sora thumped down the creaky wooden stairs, followed closely by a nervous Cloud.

"Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad," the brunette called happily. "Good morning!" He nearly skipped from the living room into the dining room, where a bag of low-fat potato chips and some sliced fruit sat temptingly on the shiny, black table.

"Sora, it's 1:00 in the afternoon. I'd hardly call it morning," his mother replied from the kitchen. She bustled out, scrunching up her dark blonde hair as she finished getting ready. It was easy to see which parent Sora had taken after-- his body and face, even his eyes and expressions were reflections of his mother. "Hello, you must be Cloud," she said excitedly to the blonde. "We've heard so much about you!"

"Oh so much," Sora's father agreed apathetically from the den.

"Call me MaryAnn," she said enthusiastically, waving off her husband's comment. Cloud couldn't help but smile at the gesture; it was very Sora-like. "Ignore Bernard. We were planning to meet you last night, but you two got home pretty late."

"We heard you clomping up the stairs," Bernard said dully.

"Sorry about that," Cloud apologized, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "We should have clomped more quietly." He took a piece of apple from the plate that Sora offered him, and then crunched away at the chips.

"Don't worry about him," Sora said dismissively. "Dad's always like that."

"Alright, I need to get going," MaryAnn said impatiently, looking at her watch. "It's time to go show a house. Wish me luck! Maybe I'll get it sold. It was nice meeting you, Cloud. Come over anytime, okay? There's more food in the kitchen, so help yourself."

Sora and Cloud waved goodbye as the youthful, petite woman backed out of the side door. The door snapped shut as MaryAnn left, leaving the house eerily quiet. Ominous, even.

"C'mon, Cloud. Let's go meet my dad," Sora whispered, an oversized grin plastered on his face. He grabbed onto the blonde man's shirt and took a step forward, before being jerked back roughly.

Cloud pulled him close and whispered urgently. "You don't understand, Sora. I'm horrible at meeting parents. Just ask Demyx, or Rinoa, or Axel, or anyone. Your dad already scares me. Look!" He held up his hands, shoving his palms in the brunette's face. "My hands are already sweating. I might get hives."

"It's no big thing," Sora said calmly, putting a reassuring hand on the blonde's shoulder. "Please, Cloud? Pretty, pretty please?" He pouted, doing his best to make his eyes water and his lip tremble.

Cloud looked around the room desperately, as if hoping a door would magically appear to whisk him away from the impending social awkwardness he was about to experience. "Fine."

The word was barely out of Cloud's mouth before Sora had pushed him into the den where his father sat, currently absorbed in the newspaper. Bernard sat on a plump leather chair, a small coffee table in front of him and an antique sofa on the opposite side of the table.

"Dad. Dad. Dad. Dad," Sora repeated, not stopping until his father laid down the paper and gave his full attention to the boy. "I wanted you to meet Cloud Strife." He put an arm around Cloud and gave his dad a thumbs up and a large, cheesy grin.

Bernard and Cloud scrutinized each other. Cloud saw a middle aged man with a deeply lined face and thick glasses perched on the end of his large nose. His short, spiky brown hair was thin but still indicative of where Sora got his chocolaty brown locks.

"It's nice to meet you, sir," Cloud all but stammered. He fidgeted distressfully and was prone to breaking out into bouts of nervous, choked laughter for no reason.

"You too," Bernard replied in a nasally toneless voice. "You seem like a respectful young man, Cloud. A decent boy, with a bright future ahead of you. So why are you hanging around with my son?"

"Dad."

"Just wondering," his father mumbled. He unfolded the paper and resumed his reading.

"Come on, Cloud. Sit," Sora ordered, pulling the older man onto the greenish leather sofa next to him.

They sat in silence. Cloud sat rigidly in place, sweaty hands twisting fitfully in his lap. Sora hummed the tune from Another One Bites the Dust and patted the beat against his thighs.

"I'll go get something to drink," Sora offered, popping up from the sofa perkily. "What do you want, Cloud? Soda? Coffee? Orange juice?"

"Uh…"

"Orange juice it is!" The brown haired boy pranced out of the room, leaving Cloud and Bernard to make small talk.

"Nice weather lately," the blonde supplied. He clasped his hands together and willed himself to keep it together.

"Not really. It's too hot, and it hasn't rained in weeks. The pollen is killing me. Damn ragweed," Bernard said unhappily, effectively ending all conversation involving weather.

"Yep," Cloud agreed quietly, grimacing as he realized that there was nothing else to chit chat about, and he wasn't even god at this when conversation topics were abundant. He busied himself with looking around the small room until Sora came back with two small glasses of orange juice.

"Well," Bernard said, setting down the newspaper on his lap. He coughed lightly, a little nervously. "You seem to get along rather well. So, did you two have… fun last night?"

Cloud sucked in a large, anxious breath. "Well, yes. Yes, sir. We went to the concert, and it was fun, but we went out to eat first, so--"

"No Dad, we didn't have sex," Sora interrupted, rolling his eyes. Cloud looked incredulously from Bernard to Sora, and then back again.

Bernard crossed himself and mumbled a "Thank you" as he looked meaningfully toward the ceiling.

"Dad! You're not even Catholic!"

Bernard ignored him and buried his nose in the paper once again. Sora glanced to Cloud, who was angrily mouthing, "What?" and gesturing from father to son.

Sora sighed heavily. "Fine. Me and Cloud are going to go to the arcade, okay, Dad? Make sure you feed Mardi," he warned sternly. The reddish brown cat in the next room mewled at the sound of its name.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Sora questioned brightly as they walked down the front steps and toward Cloud's slightly battered Civic. He crossed the unkempt lawn in front of their small but comfortable cookie-cutter house, waving at the neighbors across the street.

"It _was_ that bad, Sora. It was fucking awkward incarnate. And why does your dad think we had sex?" Cloud practically yelled, causing neighbors and passersby to cover their children's ears and shoot them disapproving looks.

"Oh, that's just how my dad is. I think he thinks I'm a slut. Or a whore. Or something. And 'fun' is like his codeword for sex. Weird, right? But don't worry-- I think he likes you. I mean, he didn't curse at you in German or anything! Way to go, Cloud," Sora exclaimed after strapping himself into the car, holding up a hand and waiting for a high five.

Cloud frowned and eyed the hand furiously. "I don't think so, Sparky. Not after what you just put me through." He backed out of the driveway as recklessly and angrily as he could-- while still checking the mirrors for any stray children or pets and making sure there was no oncoming traffic. Cloud might be pissed, but he was still responsible.

"Oh," Sora pouted. He lowered his hand forlornly and sniffed. "Fine, just leave me hangin'. It's not like I care. I don't want to touch your weird, nervous-sweaty hands anyway."

"Well, in that case," he said, instantly perking up and smiling deviously. He kept one hand on the wheel and stuck out the right one blindly at Sora, wiggling his fingers menacingly.

"Dear God," Sora gasped as he pressed himself against the door. "Keep it away!" His face smushed and contorted against the glass of the window, eliciting pointing and staring from all the people they passed.

By the time Cloud stopped harassing the brunette, they were deep in the heart of Twilight Town and stopped at a red light. Sora, who had come to enjoy the attention brought by making faces as you drove by people, continued pressing his face to the glass.

Just as Sora stuck out his tongue, crossed his eyes, and flattened his face against the window, he thought for an instant that he saw someone he recognized standing on the sidewalk alongside the car. And he was right.

Riku, who had been waiting on a red light at the intersection, suddenly stopped, stared, smiled, and then doubled over with laughter at the bizarre face of the flute playing brunette.

Upon standing up straight again, the Riku met Sora's no longer crossed eyes and watched as the boy frantically waved and repeatedly mouthed "I'm not insane" to the aqua eyed senior.

Riku pointed to himself and then patted his forehead. At Sora's confused expression he smiled and mouthed "I know". The trumpeter waved to the brunette as the light turned green and the silver car rolled into the intersection. Sora waved back excitedly, his hand flapping from the speed at which it was being shaken.

As they turned the corner and Riku was left behind, Sora squealed excitedly.

"Sora, you do that again and I'll kick you out of my car. And then you can go squeal to the homeless people."

"Cloud. Cloud! Did you see that? Did you see what just happened? Me and Riku-- we totally had a conversation." Sora wiggled delightedly in his seat, though the motion was slightly inhibited by the seatbelt.

"You were at least twenty feet apart. And _you_ were in a car. No words were exchanged. And it only lasted for the length of a red light. A conversation that does not make," Cloud said as gently as he could.

"Whatever. We connected. I could feel it. He did this weird thing though, with his hand and his forehead. Friggin' yes! I foresee an excuse to start up a conversation with him on Monday!"

"And this would be?" Roxas asked, pointing to a bowl of light-colored, creamy dip.

"Baba ghannouj," Axel answered, dunking a slice of pita bread into it and then stuffing the entire piece into his mouth. "Eggplant dip."

"Right. And this stuff?" He held up another small bowl.

"Hummus, Roxas. Hummus. What kind of deprived life have you been living?"

"The kind that doesn't involve Mediterranean food, clearly," Roxas lamented, although he was starting to see why his mother hadn't been feeding him this. He curiously examined the two appetizers, reminded of paste, poking and prodding at the styrofoam bowls.

"Try it. You'll love it, I promise," Axel urged with a smile, handing a piece of warm bread to the blonde and nodding encouragingly. "It looks a little gross, but it tastes great."

"How many times have I heard that before? You sound just like my mother." Roxas shivered at the memories. He dipped the tiniest tip of his bread into the hummus and then brought it to his lips and gave it an unsure sniff. "Only she only said that about tuna surprise."

"Jesus, Rox. I'm not like I'm asking you to eat bugs, here. It's just ground up chickpeas and olive oil."

"I don't even know what a chickpea is," the blonde complained with an angry pout. "For all I know, it really _is_ bugs and you're just making up that 'chickpea' crap."

"Bullshit. There's free internet at the next café over. Don't make me go google chickpeas just to prove you wrong," the redhead warned in between bites of hummus covered bread. Grainy flour from the pita bread covered his hands. He wiped them off against his shirt, leaving light colored streaks on the black fabric.

Roxas took a tentative bite and chewed it slowly and carefully, contemplating each flavor he tasted. Axel raised his eyebrows interestedly as he waited to hear the blue eyed boy's decision.

"It's not bad," Roxas admitted. He sighed under Axel's squinty eyed glare. "Okay, it's very good. I like it. Are you happy?"

"The happiest. Now I really can't wait for you to try the gyro."

Roxas grunted in response. The wind picked up for a few seconds, threatening to blow away their napkins and plastic utensils, before fading back into a gentle breeze. Roxas watched Axel's hair as the soft wind made the tips bend and sway.

The Red Radish was a tiny, slightly run-down restaurant that specialized in Greek and other Mediterranean food, all of which was new to Roxas. They sat in the restaurant's cramped courtyard, which was packed with umbrella covered tables. The fountain in the center of the outdoor eating area bubbled lethargically, water running slowly down its tiers. The white plaster walls were peeling.

Roxas cleared his throat. "So… you like this kind of food?"

Axel was in the process of cramming five layers of hummus covered bread into his mouth at once. "Well, yeah," he said after swallowing. "I spent the summer traveling from Greece to Egypt. What can I say? I fell in love with the food."

"From Greece to Egypt? Why would-- oh, right. See any cool ruins? Dig up stuff?" Roxas carefully dipped a piece of bread into the bowl of baba ghannouj and nibbled on it tentatively.

Axel grinned widely, the smile even showing in his eyes. "I can't believe you remembered that," he said, the excitement apparent in his voice. "Most people think any form of anthropology is boring and don't even bother committing that part of me to memory. At least people seem to like archaeology alright."

"Digging around in dirt. For old stuff. Sounds like loads of fun," Roxas said dryly, looking up at the neon yellow umbrella shading them.

"Okay, smartass. What are you planning to do with your future?"

"I have no idea," Roxas replied. Axel stared at him with a smug and unbelieving expression. "I said I don't know! Really! I have no idea. For serious."

Axel laid his head against the surface of the table and laughed. "What? _'For serious'_? I can't believe you just said that, Rox. It's so… so…"

"Eighties?"

"Demyx. You need to spend less time around him. Clearly, he's trying to brainwash you into becoming a freaky haired bum like him."

Roxas struggled to snatch all the napkins as the wind picked up again. "And here I thought you two were best friends," he teased.

"Yeah, but he's still a freak. I can't tell you how many times I've woken up to see him standing over me with a razor and a bottle of blue hair dye. I sleep with one eye open now," the redhead mumbled, poking at one of his eyes for emphasis. "Our food should be done by now. I'll go check." Axel sprung from his chair and sprinted to the building, dodging tables and chairs along the way. He returned moments later with a food laden tray in each hand.

"Nice running," Roxas smirked as the redhead sat down.

"I know," Axel grinned. "I played basketball for two years in high school. And by 'play' I mean 'sat on the bench and drank soda and ate candy bars'. I was a benchwarmer."

"Are you serious? You're like seven feet tall. They'd be stupid to never use you."

"Six-foot seven, actually. Not counting my hair. The coach kept saying that I was too tall for my own good. Just don't ask Gippal about it. He'll tell you stories-- lies, all of it. Oh, and then there was track, but that was short-lived. Gippal will tell you lies about that, too."

"I'm sure," Roxas laughed. He stabbed at the food on his plate with a plastic spork. "Can I ask you a question?"

"As long as it doesn't pertain to my sports life, go ahead."

"You seem kind of… un-confrontational. And laid back. Aren't the Irish supposed to be short-tempered and hot-headed and all that? You know, like the Fightin' Irish or whatever?"

Axel snorted and had to cover his mouth as he laughed, prepared to spit out the gyro if he felt he was in danger of choking on it. "Roxas, I refuse to perpetuate a stereotype, especially a stupid, unfounded one. The only Irish person I know that's actually like that is my Ma-- and she got enough of those characteristic traits for the rest of us. My brother and I, we're mostly normal."

The blonde blushed and apologized rapidly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound crazy or ignorant or anything, I just--"

"No, no, it's okay. I just wanted you to know that I get angry like every other person does, and you don't have to walk on eggshells around me-- I'm not going to snap and freak out over some small thing. I have my fucked up and angry moments, but no more than anyone else. Well… maybe a _little_."

"Good to know. I get annoyed over little things, like when people keep _sucking on their straw when the cup is freaking empty_--" Axel stopped and guiltily set his cup back on the table "--and I tend to blow up about stupid, unimportant things. I thought you might want to know, since we're sharing and all."

"What about your family? What are they like?" Axel leaned back in his chair, balancing it shakily on two legs.

"They're okay. Nothing too interesting," Roxas shrugged. "Your average, everyday parents."

"They sound great," Axel smiled. "And they must be beautiful, if you're anything to go by."

"Very funny," Roxas murmured, his face reddening.

"I'm not laughing," Axel smirked. He checked the time on his tiny red cell phone. "We should probably head back. Did you like the food? Was it the most fantastic thing you've ever tasted? Was it the best you've ever had in your whole life ever?"

"Sure," Roxas said noncommittally. He examined his nails nonchalantly, aware that Axel was still smiling at him.

"Wonderful. I really feel like I learned something today, Roxas." He resumed noisily sucking the straw of his empty cup, delighting in the affronted look that passed over Roxas' face.

Roxas, in turn, was delighted as he retaliated by throwing a soggy leaf from the dolmadakia at the redhead's face.

"So how was it?"

"How was _what_, Sora?" Roxas asked exasperatedly. He slid down one of the creamy off-white walls of Sora's room before sprawling on the floor, one hand stroking at the soft, eggshell-colored carpet.

"The date," Sora exclaimed, sitting down beside the blonde.

Roxas sighed and rolled his eyes simultaneously. "It wasn't a date," he said matter-of-factly.

"What did you do?"

"I met him on campus, we talked, we walked to the restaurant, and talked, we ate at The Red Radish, which has some very weird but good food, and talked, and then we walked back, and talked. It was mostly talking," Roxas finished.

"Talking is good! And that, my friend, was a date. Speaking of talking, I saw Riku downtown today, and we talked for like… seconds. It was great." Sora clapped his hands together happily.

"Wait. Did you really talk, or is this another one of your imagined, fantasy conversations?" Roxas sat up to eye his friend suspiciously.

"Rox, if it had been a fantasy conversation, it would have ended with us making out. Duh. This was real."

"Right. I'll take your word for it." Roxas turned on Sora's TV and Playstation 2 and began digging through his collection of games. "Let's play something with gratuitous violence. I don't feel like going home."

"I love violence," Sora said offhandedly. "So what is The Red Radish like? Is it an Italian bistro? If I went out with Riku, we'd go somewhere Italian, and then we could eat spaghetti like those two dogs in that movie." Roxas cringed, which only served to urge Sora on. "And then we'd make sweet, sweet love in the alley behind the bistro, and Riku would--"

"Stop it, Sora! I do not want to hear about you and Riku. Jesus, now the mental image is stuck. Thanks, Sora. Thanks for that lovely little bit of psychological damage."

"Don't worry, Rox. When I become a therapist, I'll be able to give you the help you need." Sora smiled and reassuringly patted Roxas on the arm.

"I think you should pick a different career," Roxas muttered. "And The Red Radish is Mediterranean, which is a little like Italian, I guess. It has all kinds of stuff, and most of it is delicious. Axel ordered a box of baklava to-go while we were there, and we ate it on the way back to Radiant Garden. It was messy and sticky, but it was awesome. Honey and lots of flaky pastry," he said quietly, licking his lips. He turned to Sora. "We should go get some one day."

"I want some now," Sora pouted. "I need something sweet. Wait a sec-- let's check the stash." The brunette scrambled under his bed for a moment before pulling out an oversized shoe box. He pried off the lid to reveal a pile of candy and chocolate that would have made his health-conscious mother weep.

"So how was the concert?" Roxas took an appreciative bite out of a large bar of dark chocolate.

"Friggin' sweet, that's how. It was the best one I've ever been to." Sora snickered. "I totally squeezed Cloud's ass while he was crowd surfing, but he didn't know it was me, so he got paranoid and kept his hands over his butt for the rest of the concert." Tears leaked from the brunette's eyes are he relived the experience. "It was great! And then we went by Dairy Queen afterwards, and then we came home. He stayed over, and my dad thought we had sex."

"Your dad always thinks that, even when I spend the night," Roxas frowned.

"Don't remind me." Sora picked up a controller and shook it menacingly at Roxas. "Prepare to get your ass kicked."

"How do you prepare for something like that?" he asked sarcastically. The blonde leaned against Sora's turquoise covered bed, controller in hand. "Hey, you've been on dates before, right?"

"Sure have," Sora muttered, waiting for the game to load. "Why?"

"I don't know what to do," Roxas grumbled. "What does Axel want? Why does he like me? What is he expecting? Now that we've gone on one, how am I supposed to act? I mean… I don't know how to say it."

"Tell me how you feel about Axel," Sora said simply. "What do you like about him?"

"Well," Roxas stalled. "I like the way he looks. He's beautiful, but still kind of awkward, so I'm not intimidated by his looks or scared that he'll realize he's gorgeous and ignore me because I'm not."

"Keep going," Sora encouraged.

"Um…he's strong. I feel safe with him. I felt that way from the first time I met him. He's… sweet, and relaxed, but I can tell he's ready to fight if it comes down to it. He makes me laugh, because he's slightly dorky, and because he's not afraid to laugh at himself. But he's not afraid to be proud of himself either. He's not lacking in the confidence."

Sora looked at Roxas expectantly. "I can tell there's more. Go on, Rox."

Roxas put his head against his chin and spoke slowly. "He's interesting. Every time I talk to him, it's like he reforms into some new shape. There's so much inside him that I don't know about, and it just drives me crazy. I want to ask-- I want to know everything about him, the good and the bad --but at the same time I'm scared that I'll mess things up if I do. And… I think he feels the same way about me, a little at least, you know? He wants to know me, and I want him to know me, too. Inside and out. But I'm scared."

"Scared of what?"

"I don't know. Scared that I'll get hurt, I suppose. Isn't that what everyone's afraid of? I've never been emotionally hurt before, but it sounds bad. I don't think I want to find out."

"A risk you have to take with love," Sora said quietly. "But I don't think Axel will do that to you. Trust him. You're a good judge of character, Rox. You know what you want, you know how to go about getting it-- you just don't believe in yourself. Trust Axel. Trust yourself. Don't worry about expectations, don't put pressure on it. Let it flow," he said whimsically, fluttering his fingers and whispering, "Sparkle sparkle," for effect.

"You might not be such a horrible therapist after all," Roxas sighed. "Odd and kind of corny, but still very helpful."

"That's my motto," Sora chirped. "I'll put it on my business cards. Now I feel like celebrating."

"Celebrating," Roxas said flatly. He picked at a red kool-aid stain on the carpet. "Dare I ask why?"

Sora gave him a look. "For you and Axel, and your sweet, blossoming relationship. For me and Riku, and our almost-conversation. For being alive!" he shouted dramatically. "Why shouldn't we be celebrating? Plus, my dad's inviting his old college friends over, and they'll be arguing, yelling, and picking on us all night, so we might as well get out while we can," he added darkly.

"Well, when you put it that way," Roxas said hurriedly, standing to help Sora pack his bag with clothes and dental hygiene products. Roxas had met Bernard's friends before-- a group of aging men much like Bernard himself, who saw no harm in badgering and mocking the younger generation, and reminisced nonstop about the good ol' days. He wasn't stupid or masochistic enough to go through that again. "You wanna celebrate at Dairy Queen and then go over to my house?"

"Of course, bestest friend," Sora laughed. "But first, we need to hit Kairi's. I'm sure she'll salivate over all these juicy details about you and Axel. And me and Riku!" Sora screamed fanatically.

With that, the two snuck downstairs and through the back door, pausing only to tape a note to the refrigerator for Sora's mom to find.

**Thanks again to reviewers. The feedback really is helpful, and a good motivation. Knowing people want to read… well, it makes me get off my butt and try to update semi-regularly. Yay!**


	6. Chevy vs Mercedes

**Sorry about the lateness. Forgive me! I've been busy-- between AP tests, finals, and my band trip, writing's had to take a backseat. It's about 5 pages longer than normal though! See? I wasn't just being lazy. I was having fun at Universal Studios. Whoo!**

**Ars Musica got over a hundred reviews! When I saw that as I was doing replies, I started planning this whole big, geeky thing where I would be like, "You, are the 100****th**** reviewer! Come on down and get your priiiize!" But then I saw that the 100****th**** review was anonymous, so I couldn't do it. Which is why I'm doing it here! ****Karesu, you were the 100****th**** reviewer! And your prize is… an imaginary giraffe! (Oooooh… Ahhhh…) Yes, yes. That was lame. But I'm too poor to buy you a real one. ****And for all the other amazing, super-fantabulous reviewers… imaginary zebras! Sure, they may not be as big or flashy as giraffes, but they're still pretty cool.**

"And far into the night he crooned that tune

The stars went out and so did the moon."

---Langston Hughes

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Axel tipped the oversized jug of icy water over, pouring it into his mouth. The cold liquid overflowed, running down his neck and onto his chest, leaving a soaked trail down the front of his shirt.

"Thirsty, Axel?" Gippal asked snidely. He pulled up the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, revealing a tanned and muscled torso. "You're like a freaking camel. It's disgusting."

Axel finished gulping and smiled. "Gippal," he grinned knowingly, "is this your arrogant, prideful way of asking me to share?"

"Maybe," the blonde admitted sullenly, snatching the half empty jug when it was offered to him. "Thanks."

The football field emptied as the rest of the band retreated into the shade of the tents that were set up along the sideline for their break. Water became the central concern of the sweating musicians; as the line to the main water cooler grew, groups flocked to those who had been smart enough to bring their own water bottles.

"What's this? Water sharin'? Sounds unsanitary," Demyx shouted with mock disdain as he approached the two from behind. The mulleted blonde stopped to rub at a grass stain he'd acquired earlier that day after being mowed down by a bass drummer. The effort was in vain; that grass stain wasn't going anywhere.

"We're building up our immunities," Gippal said dryly, crunching on a piece of ice. "Nice stain, Dem," he smirked. Axel turned his head as he laughed, covering up the noise with a loud and obviously fake cough.

"Thanks," he said sarcastically. "Y'know, Axel, you're the drum captain-- you could've at least yelled at the guy who ran me over." Demyx pouted and swung his horn limply in one hand. "I thought that's what best friends did."

"Come on, Dem," Axel pleaded. "The bassists can't see you when they're marching, you know that."

"It's not like anyone notices the mellophone players anyway," Gippal assured him, trying very hard to be sympathetic and supportive.

Demyx glared. "Just because you guys are flashy drummers--" he did jazz hands for emphasis "-- doesn't mean y'all are more important than the rest of us. If it weren't for us mellophones, the band would sound completely lame. Lame, you hear?" He huffed loudly before plopping down next to them, sprawled over the ground. He smiled. "Ah, the dirt is so nice and refreshing." Demyx rolled around on the cool earth happily, laughing to himself.

"Okay," Gippal drawled, raising his eyebrows. "I don't know why I even hang out with you two. You're weird. Both of you."

"You hang out with us because no one else can stand you and your blunt, cruel honesty," Axel explained with a smile. He threw a piece of ice at Demyx's face, successfully hitting him square on the nose.

"Dammit, Ax! You could have taken out my eye," Demyx shouted. He lifted his head to look at Gippal and laughed. "Haha. My eye. Then I'd be like Gippal. Heh. Gippal, Gippal, Gippal. How funny," he muttered, covering his face with both of his hands.

Axel looked concernedly from Demyx to Gippal. "I think the heat is getting to him, don't you?"

"Yeah," Gippal agreed. "He needs help." The athletic blonde provided his own solution by unceremoniously pouring the last of Axel's water over Demyx's head. He laughed gleefully as the southern boy sputtered and cursed profusely.

"The fuck, Gippal," Demyx gasped, wiping his face and sitting up to give him a severe glare. Dirt from his hands mixed with the water, leaving dark, muddy smudges across his face. "I coulda drowned, y'know. Would you be laughin' so hard then?"

"Harder," Gippal smiled. He leaned over to ruffle Demyx's hair lightly to assure him that he was only kidding. Axel winked at the mulleted blonde and grinned.

Demyx glowed. "Well, now that I know y'all both still love me, even if you do let me get run over, I can tell you my excellent, awesome, amazing news," he raved, eyes widening as if to convey just how excellent, awesome, and amazing his news really was. He paused dramatically.

"Just say it, Dem," Axel said flatly, already used to the mellophonist's dramatics.

"You know that Zexion guy? With the sexy bluish-silver hair?"

"Zexy?" Axel asked, surprised. "The theater major? Zexion Bauer?"

"No fucking duh, Ax. How many Zexions could there possibly be?" Gippal asked acidly.

"Shut up," Axel said, shaking his finger in Gippal's face. He looked at Demyx with a smirk. "Zexy was in my health class freshman year. He's okay… but he can be kind of pretentious. Really pretentious, actually. And he hates the kinds of music you love, and his sense of humor is nonexistent. And he used to steal my pencils everyday. As your best friend, I'm obligated to recommend that you drop this crush."

"I don't have a crush," Demyx laughed, punching Axel rather hard in the arm. "Even if he is damn sexy. Anyway, he came to our room last night while you were out at the store. He's doin' a play that's set in the south, and he wants me to teach him my accent! Awesome, right?"

"How do you teach someone an accent?" Gippal asked sardonically. He stood and stretched out his legs as Mr. Cavanaugh started ordering people back on field.

"I've got no idea," Demyx said honestly, rising from the ground with Axel next to him. He snatched his battered mellophone from the grass, brushing off the specks of dirt that had managed to land on its surface. "But I'll try."

Axel lifted his tenor and carefully hooked it to his carrier, patting it lightly to make sure it was secure. Demyx walked between the snare player and the tenor player as they shuffled back onto the field, toying with the valves of his horn for entertainment. Axel grimaced as he took his place in the drumline's formation, with Gippal to his right. Demyx waved at them sadly from clear across the field with the rest of the brass.

The next hour was a hellishly hot torture for the RGU band, who tiredly marched the drill over and over, until the steps were almost second nature to them. The sun was relentless, and the wind offered no mercy-- the air was sickeningly still, giving them no relief from the heat. It wasn't until one of the saxophone players threw up on the sideline that Mr. Cavanaugh allowed them to set down their instruments and relax in place for a few moments; the group sat thankfully on the grass. Those with larger instruments used them for shade, while the rest made do with rolling over and burying their faces in the parched grass.

"Do you hear music? It sounds like… bad disco music," the tenor player to Axel's left said confusedly. He was a dark haired sophomore named Nida, who had obviously not worn sunscreen-- his face was tinged with red, as were his arms.

"That would be me," Axel muttered, digging in his pockets for his cell phone.

"Is that the Bee Gees? Do you seriously have a 'Stayin' Alive' ringtone?" Gippal asked from his other side, a look of disgust, and perhaps pity, covering his face. "That's lame. And pathetic. I will buy you a decent ringtone, Ax. All you need to do is ask."

Axel held up a finger to silence the blonde as he flipped the phone open. "Axel, speaking. If this is my bastard brother calling from another payphone to beg for cash, he can hang up right now, cause-- oh, you're shitting me. Roxas! You finally called! I thought you were-- nevermind. Whatcha want to talk about?"

Gippal listened attentively to the broken stream of "Uh-huhs" and "Oh, yeahs" that Axel murmured over the phone. He also noticed that Nida, sitting quietly on the other side of Axel, was listening as well but trying very hard to pretend he was more interested in the blade of grass he was ripping to shreds.

"Yeah, there should be a rule against having practices on Mondays," Axel said, apparently agreeing with Roxas. "I think I lost five pounds in sweat today."

Gippal could tell from the slightly audible murmur of Roxas' voice and Axel's frown that the blonde boy had said something along the lines of, "And you need every pound you've got, you stickman."

"It's genetic, Rox," Axel huffed over the phone. "You've seen me eat, so don't even tell me you think I'm this skinny on purpose… It's my height. I just look stringy… Well, if you were a foot taller I'm sure you'd look anorexic, too!"

"Ax, you'd better hang up, Cavanaugh's ready to start again," Gippal warned as he put on his carrier and picked up his snare.

Axel covered the mouthpiece of the phone so Roxas wouldn't hear. "I can't! Roxas and I are arguing. If I interrupt him, he'll get all angry again. And if I hang up, he'll hate me."

"Well, if Cavanaugh sees you on the phone during his practice, you'll soon become a reddish smear on the field. Which is worse?"

Axel bit his lip as he compared the two fates. "I'll call you back," he said hurriedly to Roxas, snapping the little red phone shut before he could change his mind. He looked at Gippal with agony written all over his face. "This is gonna be bad, Gippal. He's pissed. I can tell. I can feel it."

"What are you two, a couple?"

"Maybe. Possibly. I don't know. We went on a date," Axel explained, putting on his tenor and pulling out his mallets lazily.

"But are you dating?" Gippal pursued, carefully keeping an eye on Baralai as he climbed the raised platform from which he conducted.

"I just said we went on a date, didn't I?"

"It's not the same, Ax. Did you two just go out on a casual, one-time thing, or are you seeing each other _exclusively_?"

"Um. I dunno," the redhead muttered, biting his lip and running a hand through his sweat-darkened hair. "I'm not interested in anyone else, but... I guess I'm not sure about Roxas. But we've been emailing! And he just called me. Doesn't that count for something?"

Gippal shrugged and gave Axel an unsure look as they waited quietly for the call to attention. At Baralai's command they snapped into form, standing motionless and poised. Axel sighed as the drum major met his eyes, giving the unspoken signal that he was ready to start.

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Sora slammed his door shut violently. He paced around to the hood of the old Chevy, which was smoking lightly. The incensed brunette waved a hand through the wispy grey tendrils, coughing as it entered his lungs.

"God dammit," Sora cursed lowly. He slapped the hood of the car angrily, which turned out to be a mistake on his part-- the metal was surprisingly hot. Sora withdrew his hand, cradling it against his chest. He huffed as he pulled out his cell, angrily muttering beneath is breath.

He sat down by the ditch on the side of the road next to his smoking vehicle, cursing his cell phone. "Two bars? Two bars!? All I have is two freaking bars?" Sora threw the phone across the ditch in his rage, watching with satisfaction as it plunked into the dirt on the other side.

It wasn't long before his frustration dissipated and reality set in. He looked up and down the lonely stretch of road, trying to decide which way to start walking. Sora stood and leaped clumsily across the shallow trench, picking up the phone and wiping the dirt off of it with the hem of his favourite red shirt.

"Which way to walk, which way to walk," he mumbled to himself, looking left and right. The sun would set soon, and Sora wasn't enamored with the thought of following the empty road in the dark. "Left it is." He started out at a moderate trot, which slowed to drudging walk as the minutes ticked on. Several cars passed him, but none showed any signs of slowing to offer him a ride. After nearly an hour, he passed a sign-- _Destati-- 8 miles, Balfonheim-- 50 miles._

'_So, I'm eight miles from Destati… that means I'm at least thirty from Twilight Town,' _he realized. Desperation set in; Sora had always been afraid of being alone, of being lost. _'Dad's out of town, he can't come. Mom's at work, and she can't just leave a client. Roxas? Roxas is at his grandma's tonight, I think. I'll call Roxas. Do I even have enough change for a payphone? Damn, I knew I should have gotten some out of the car before I left it.'_

Lost in his thoughts, Sora was completely unaware as a shiny, silver Mercedes roadster rolled to a stop on the shoulder of the road ahead of him. He continued to amble forward until he ran right into the car's polished bumper.

A surprised Sora hopped on one leg, clutching the shin that had unfortunately met with the Mercedes' front end. His attention focused on the driver of the sporty car as he heard the front door slam shut.

Riku pulled off his designer sunglasses, confusedly staring at Sora. "Sora? You just shuffled into my car. You didn't even notice it was there until your leg hit it, and that's saying something-- heads half a block away usually turn when I drive this." He smiled lightly. "Are you alright?" the older boy asked concernedly, moving toward the brunette.

Sora looked at him dumbly. "My car… it broke down. I've been walking and walking. Can you give me a ride? Please? I'll never ask anything else, and I'll pay for the gas, and--"

Riku cut him off with a gentle wave of his hand. Yes, he had that kind of power. "Sora, don't even say that. Of course I'll give you a ride. Don't worry about gas money or anything else," he said quietly, strolling past Sora and to the passenger door and opening it welcomingly. Riku gestured at the open door, urging the brunette to climb in.

"Thanks," Sora gushed as he approached the open door. "You have no idea how thankful I am for this. I'm like, eternally grateful, you know? Anytime you need help with your homework-- not that you would, cause you're smart and a whole grade ahead of me-- or if you want to learn how to play the flute or something, just call me. Any…"

The words died on Sora's lips as he surveyed the interior of the car, which was, unsurprisingly, impeccably clean. Not a hint of dust covered the dash board, and the dark leather seats looked brand new. "Oh, Riku. You don't really want me sitting in here, do you? I'm filthy," Sora said self-consciously, looking down at his dirt covered jeans and frowning.

"It's fine," Riku assured him, already in his seat. He patted the passenger seat temptingly, a smile fighting to take his lips. "It's now or never, Sora."

Sora hopped into the car, trying to touch as little of the immaculate and obviously expensive interior as possible. In effect, he squished himself into the tiniest ball he could possibly form.

Riku ignored it as he started the car, fully believing that Sora would act normally once they started driving. After about thirty seconds, the silver headed senior became painfully aware of how dedicated Sora was to keeping the inside of the car spotless. "Um… Sora, I don't want you to feel like you have to curl up in the fetal position just because you're in my car. I don't mind, really. Why don't you just… unroll yourself," he said awkwardly, not wanting the brunette to trouble himself.

"Oh, no. It's no trouble at all, really. I have this red clay stuff on the bottom of my shoes, and that stuff'll never come out."

"It's okay. I can buy new floor mats."

"No, I can't do that to you."

"It isn't a big deal. In fact, I think I already have extras at home," Riku lied, doing his telltale sign and scratching his nose. "I can just change them as soon as I get home. See? Good as new."

"I don't know," Sora said unsurely, pulling himself only slightly from his Sora-ball. "It looks so… nice. So fancy. So… expensive," he whispered reverently. "I could sell my soul and still not have enough to buy a car like this."

Riku snorted amusedly. "Really? Cause I think you're worth much more than this."

Sora gaped, partly from joy but mostly from disbelief. "Riku Havelock. Do you know what kind of car this is? Do you know how much these cost?"

"Well, seeing as I own one--"

"Exactly! So you should know. This had to be at least eighty thousand," Sora gasped, allowing himself to extend one finger and touch the glowing volume dial solemnly. He shuddered.

"Just over one-hundred and forty thousand, actually," Riku let slip, mentally kicking himself for resorting to such blatant measures to impress the brunette.

Sora gulped and curled tighter into his protective cocoon of sorts, much to Riku's dismay. They rode on in silence for a few moments more, Riku withdrawing to himself as he thought over the recent events. He nearly floored the gas pedal when he suddenly felt Sora's warm hand shove his shoulder. Hard.

"There's my car! There's my car!" Sora hit Riku's arm again, as if the senior somehow hadn't realized that Sora wanted to stop yet. He slid to a stop behind the now not-smoking car, following the brunette as he jogged to the front of his old Impala. They stared at it.

"I see the problem," Riku said seriously.

"You do?" Sora asked excitedly.

"Yep… It's a Chevy."

Sora's smile evaporated. "Ha. Ha. Very funny. Like I don't get enough crap about this car already."

"Ouch. Sorry."

"No, it's not your fault," Sora grumbled. "You just happen to be the unlucky one that I'm taking my anger and resentment out on. Sorry."

"I don't feel so unlucky," Riku said mildly. "So what do you want to do?"

Sora pursed his lips. "It would be nice to know what's wrong with it."

"Alright," Riku acknowledged. He set his hand tentatively on top of the hood, checking for heat.

"That was smart," Sora praised him.

Riku lifted the hood carefully, propping it up and leaning over the engine thoughtfully. He poked and prodded at various pieces, randomly hit things, and cursed loudly once when his finger got caught on something.

He turned from the engine to face Sora. "Yeah… I have no idea what I'm doing." Riku let a fair hand skim his hair, unwittingly transferring the black grease from his hands to his silvery strands. His other hand, resting on his hip, left a dark handprint on his creamy white shirt, a shirt that Sora was certain would cost him a month's worth of wages.

"You don't know anything about cars?"

"I know how to change a flat tire," Riku said defensively. "And it's not like you know what's wrong with it either."

"Well, I would know that kind of stuff if I had a freaking expensive car like that," Sora said accusatorily, pointing at the sparkly Mercedes.

Riku crossed his arms. "If you had a car like that, you wouldn't _need_ to know 'that kind of stuff'. Those cars don't just break down for no reason, like _some_ cars. Besides," he said sternly, tapping the side of the Impala, "you're lucky this screaming metal deathtrap didn't go up in flames."

"What are you saying? My car is a hazard?"

"I'm saying it's only a matter of time before it spontaneously combusts."

"Right," Sora muttered, slamming the hood down and pacing back to Riku's car. "Please drive me home now, so I can call a tow truck. And I will pay you for gas, whether you like it or not."

"I won't take it," Riku warned.

"I'll make you take it," Sora threatened.

"Is that so?" Riku asked with thinly veiled amusement. He went back to his car and smiled as Sora climbed in, following suit only seconds later. He noted, with a mix of perturbed confusion and amused satisfaction, that Sora no longer seemed to car about keeping his car pristine; dirt smudged the dashboard where the brunette had defiantly propped up his feet. Sora stared out the window, the last rays of sun making his profile glow.

"Look," Riku began calmly, hoping to repair the damage of his comments about Sora's car, "I didn't think that you'd get so upset over the car. I'm sorry."

"And?"

"And?" Riku repeated, puzzled.

"Go on."

Riku sighed. "Fine. Your crappy Impala isn't a deathtrap, and it doesn't suck. Does that make you happy?"

"Yes, it does," Sora replied with a bright grin. "You can come for a ride with me anytime you want."

"I'd have to have a death wish, first," Riku muttered under his breath. He started the car with a quick twist of the keys, looking over to the beaming, humming Sora. Riku couldn't help but smile; the brunette was infectious.

"So what were you doing out here?" Sora asked the senior with a bright, curious smile.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I was on my way back from Destati because that's where I do my volunteer work. Why were you there?"

"I was in Balfonheim."

"That's a long way to go on a Monday night," Sora said quietly. "Is that why you left band practice so quickly?"

"Yeah. If I drive fast enough, I can usually get there, spend a few hours with my dad, and then make it back before nine. It's a close call with after school practices though."

"So you were visiting your dad? That's sweet. Why does he live so far away?" Sora asked interestedly. Riku didn't answer Sora, or even acknowledge the question for a moment; his lips thinned as he frowned. "But if you'd rather not say, I'll understand. That's your business. If--"

"No, it's fine. It's just-- my dad… he gets sick a lot. His house in Balfonheim is right next to the water. He says the sea air makes him feel better." Riku glanced at Sora. "I'm happy that you care enough to ask."

"Yeah," Sora agreed. He looked down at his lap. "Does that mean you live alone?"

"Mmhmm," Riku answered, eyes focused on the road in front of him. "In a big house at the top of a tall hill, with lots of trees and gardens."

"Sounds like a fairy tale house. All you're missing is a stable filled with horses and a pool filled with jell-o," Sora laughed.

"Actually, I have both of those. Minus the jell-o." Riku blushed and was thankful for the falling darkness that mostly hid the red on his cheeks.

"Are you serious? That's… amazing! I'm completely jealous," Sora said in disbelief. He shifted nervously in his seat. "My mom always taught me that it's rude and impolite to invite yourself over to someone else's house, but… could I please, please, please come over sometime?" Sora asked desperately.

"I'd like that," Riku smirked handsomely, his features highlighted by the city lights as they approached Twilight Town, "as long as some small part of you actually wants to come to my house for me, not just my pool."

"Of course! Even if you lived in a cardboard box, I'd still want to visit you! Well… maybe not. I'd still want to see you, just at somewhere other than your cheap cardboard house, 'cause I doubt we'd both fit inside, and even if we did, it would probably be awkward and uncomfortable. And smelly."

"That's good to know," Riku replied, the smile evident from his tone.

A pause of silence ensued, the dull rumble of the car over the road the only noise. Sora was tempted to turn on the radio, but decided not to after one glance at Riku. The silver haired driver looked perfectly content to ride in silence, the faint remnants of a smile on his lips.

It almost hurt Sora to break the quiet calm that had descended. "Riku? I almost forgot to ask you this. Do you remember seeing me on Saturday?"

"No, Sora," Riku grinned. "I completely forgot the time you made sick faces and pressed yourself against the car window, and then started freaking out and mouthing 'I'm not insane'. You know, I think you scared and offended the woman standing next to me," he laughed, wiping one of his eyes with his thumb.

Sora nearly forgot what he wanted to say at the sound of Riku's laughter-- it was the genuine kind of laughter that tells you about a person. Riku's laugh sounded like that of a person who was unused to letting go. "Yeah, yeah, I looked stupid and it was all very funny," Sora said hurriedly, wanting to get to his point. "But then you did this thing"-- he imitated Riku's movements from that day, pointing to himself and tapping his forehead lightly--"and I had no clue as to what it meant. I feel like an idiot for asking…"

"Don't," was Riku's reply. "It was sign language. I did it without even thinking, it's not like I was expecting you to know it," he said sympathetically.

Sora perked up. "You know sign language? That's so cool! Wait, why do you know sign language?" he asked in a rush.

"My dad is deaf."

"Oh," Sora replied, taken aback. "Oh, wow. Didn't know that."

"Most people don't," Riku explained. "Actually… you might be the first at Twilight High to know."

"I can't believe you trust me enough to tell me something so personal," Sora smiled, leaning forward in his seat. "Especially since we haven't really been close before. We never really talked before now."

"A mistake on my part." Riku let his grip on the wheel loosen, running one hand over the textured leather idly. "I've seen you around since my sophomore year, and I always thought about talking to you, about starting a--a friendship or something, but it never happened. I never made it happen."

"So what changed? Me sitting all alone on the side of a road, lost and alone? Or the hallway incident? Or was it my beautiful face at that red light that drew you in?" he laughed. "Or maybe something after the workshop at RGU? I remember you giving me weird looks after that."

"Whose car were you in that day, at the red light in downtown?" Riku asked quietly, his voice clearly tense. "A silver Civic? It looked nice."

"It was Cloud's. Cloud Strife," Sora said with a smile, remembering the blonde and the fun they had. He met Riku's eyes for a split second and the smile turned into an open-mouthed gasp. "No! You were jealous of Cloud?"

"I didn't say tha--"

"What did you think? I was B-fries with Cloud, and that you didn't have a chance now?"

"No, that's-- that isn't really it. And what the hell is a B-fri?"

"Best friends, duh," Sora said, shaking his head. "That explains it! The weird looks--"

"Weird? You thought they were weird?" Riku asked nervously.

"-- the strange, bipolar-like mood changes--"

"Strange? Bi-polar? That's how you think of me?"

"-- the times I felt like you were undressing me with your eyes--"

Riku was silent, but his blush said it all for him.

"-- hah, I was kidding about that last one, but seriously! It explains all the other things. You were a little jealous, and that's nothing to be ashamed of," Sora assured the older man. "Cloud and I are just really good friends."

"Okay," Riku said flatly, ready to end the conversation. His heart was still doing overtime from Sora's little speech.

"So are we friends now?"

"Eh?"

Sora leaned in closer to Riku, his face only inches from the trumpeter's ear. Riku suddenly found it much harder to focus on driving. "I asked if we're friends now. Can I call you a friend? Can I go out in public and say, 'Yeah, Riku Havelock. I'm totally friends with him' and have it be truthful? Do you consider me a friend?"

"Yes, yes to all of that," Riku agreed. He let out a low sigh as Sora retreated back to his side of the car, looking out the passenger window again. "So where do you live?" he asked as he turned down one of the residential streets of Twilight Town.

"Um… up ahead, a right, straight, another right, a left, and then another right, I think," Sora more-or-less answered. Riku, following the boy's directions, ended up in an alley behind a mini-mall. "Oh. Gosh. See, I usually just go by landmarks-- buildings, parks, churches, schools. I'm really bad at directions," the brunette muttered apologetically, absently twirling a piece of his hair. "That's probably why I get lost so much," he laughed. "Go right up here, and then go left at the gas station."

Riku muttered a string of curses under his breath as he turned onto yet another dead-end street.

"Hmmm… maybe we should have gone _left_ at that last intersection," Sora supplied cheerfully, not at all upset by the delay.

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"Don't tell me you're still trying to call him," Gippal groaned, covering his face with the magazine he was reading. The blonde lay comfortably on the redhead's bed, his shoe covered feet dangling from the side of the bed to keep it clean. "It's almost ten. The poor kid's probably asleep by now."

"Exactly! He's been ignoring my calls and emails for hours. Thanks a lot, Gippal," Axel said darkly, his somber expression clashing with the happy, dancing cupcakes that covered his flannel pajamas. He sat atop Demyx's bed, which was still covered with random objects and papers. It was also starting to sport a mighty funky smell.

"What'd I do?"

"You told me to hang up on him!"

"If I hadn't said it, Cavanaugh would have by crushing your girly little phone in one fist," Gippal replied, lunging forward to swat Axel with his magazine. He managed to fall off the bed.

"Haha, you bastard. You deserved it. And my phone is not girly. Marluxia's phone is pink, and that's girly. Mine is red. It's awesome," Axel taunted, waving the phone in Gippal's face and grinning.

"So, how are things going with Roxas?" Gippal said with fake sweetness.

Axel's face fell. "You really are an asshole. Way to kick someone when their down." He flipped his phone open, dialing furiously. After five rings, he shut his phone again. "Damn. Today sucked."

"I agree. Thank God, it's almost over. At least it's too late for things to get much worse," Gippal reasoned.

As if on cue (or perhaps as divine punishment on Gippal for tempting fate) a loud crash was heard down the hallway. Every few seconds another thud-boom would be heard, getting closer and closer to the dorm room.

Gippal grimaced. "How much do you want to bet that that's coming for us?" he asked dryly.

A knock on the door affirmed his suspicions. Though, technically, it was more of a bodily collision than a knock. Axel rose and leaned against the door, listening intently.

"What's the password?" he singsonged through the crack of the door.

"Open. The fuck. Up."

Axel obliged, opening the door to reveal a very disgruntled Cloud.

"You look disgruntled," Gippal pointed out, crowding into the doorway to see the other blonde.

"Yeah, well, if you haven't noticed, I'm carrying about three-hundred pounds more than usual--"

"Cloud! I do not weigh three hundred pounds! And I'll freaking shank you if you say something like that about me again, do you hear me? Are you even listening? I'll cut you, man," an irate, high pitched voice shrieked from Cloud's back.

"Hey, Rikku," Axel and Gippal said in union. Axel gave a weak wave to the hyper blonde girl currently hanging from Cloud's back. Her thin, bracelet covered arms were wrapped around his neck and her long, tanned legs encircled his waist.

"What a pleasant surprise," Gippal added sourly, starting to shut the door. Cloud pushed past him, walked to the middle of the room, and plopped Rikku onto Axel's bed.

"Gee, if only all of our guests could be so polite and considerate. Thank you, Strife," Gippal griped. Cloud just continued stretching, working the kinks out of his back and shoulders.

"Oh, come off it, Gip," Rikku said perkily, jumping up from the bed. She danced in place happily, her braided blonde hair swinging back and forth. "It's not my fault you're still upset that I dumped you."

"I am-- no, that's-- well, you're insane!" Gippal argued badly. "And I don't care about that anymore. I'm over it. Completely."

"That's good to hear, sweetie! Especially since I started going out with Nooj and all."

"Nooj? Nooj!" Gippal sputtered, waving his arms. "Nooj is a poor man's imitation of the coolness that is me! What does he have that I don't?"

"Both eyes," Axel supplied helpfully. It earned him a glare from Gippal.

"He's missing a leg! And an arm! What is wrong with you, woman?" the irritated blonde shouted.

"He's a sweetie pie," Rikku pouted. "He's sensitive, unlike _some_ people, who shall remain nameless. Gippal."

"Well, if by 'sensitive' you mean 'a stupid, girly, stupid, ugly, stupid bastard-hippie', I'd have to agree," Gippal muttered, pointing accusatorily at the blonde girl.

"Gippal, unless you want the pointy part of my high heels to take out your _other_ eye, I--"

"Oh, what's this?" Axel asked with fake enthusiasm, his eyes going wide. He whipped out a bag of mini-Snickers and Kit-Kats and dangled it in the air. "A bag full of chocolatey goodness? And no one to eat it?"

The bag was snatched in a matter of seconds, and the two tanned blondes sat huddled in the corner, splitting up the haul.

"Crisis averted!" Axel said proudly. "Score one for me!" He gave himself a high five.

"Way to diffuse a dangerous situation," Cloud agreed tiredly. "Where's Demyx?"

"At some friend's house in Destati for the night. Why, do you need to talk to him?"

"No," Cloud started quietly. "I was just wondering… would you mind if I stayed over?"

Axel's face softened, his brows knitting and his mouth straightening into an unhappy line. He looked Cloud over, attentively noting the rings under his eyes and the unfocused glaze that covered them. "Sure, of course. Is something wrong? Are you okay? Do you need help, Cloud? Is it the OCD again?"

"What? No, no. My roommate is having sex with his girlfriend, and it keeps me awake. I can't sleep in there. The nastiest shit…" he trailed off as he proceeded to throw crap off of Demyx's bed. Axel moved to help him.

"Haven't seen you since after practice," Axel said with a smile. "I forgot to ask you, how was the concert?"

"Ugh," Cloud replied, throwing his head back and covering his face with one hand. "Someone freaking groped me while I was crowd surfing. And then one of the security guards slapped me on the ass afterward. I think I have a bruise," Cloud said sadly, rubbing at his behind.

"Maybe you should stop wearing such sexy jeans," Axel said helpfully. "Or just be uglier."

"I'll work on that," the blonde said sarcastically, kicking off his shoes and climbing into Demyx's bed. "I'm sleepy. G'night."

"Night," Axel said quietly, reaching for the light. He looked at the corner. "Are you two staying over, or are you just gonna let yourselves out later?"

Gippal and Rikku looked up, still cramming candy into their mouths. Melted chocolate stained their hands and faces. Gippal mumbled a garbled answer, and Rikku just shrugged.

"Okay then," Axel murmured, flipping the light off. He got cozy under his blanket in the dark, mildly annoyed by the rustling noises that Rikku and Gippal were making.

"Oh, Axel, I forgot to tell you something," Rikku said excitedly. The redhead could imagine her bouncing on the soles of her feet, just itching to tell him.

"Can it wait?"

"Uh, hm, um, no. It's pretty important, I think."

Axel made a grunt in the affirmative, urging her to go on.

"Cavanaugh wants everybody with free afternoons to go visit high schools, you know? As the biggest, most impressive university in the area, he says it's our responsibility to--"

"Whatever," Axel nearly shouted, pulling his comforter over his head. "What do you need to tell ME? Make it quick, Rikku."

"You and Zack have to go to Twilight High and talk to them and lead a class and go to their practice," Rikku spat out hurriedly.

It was dead silent. For all of three seconds. "I have to fucking _what_? With _Zack_? Zack?" Axel screamed into his pillow before reaching blindly for the light to his lamp. Rikku and Gippal, fearing for their lives, fled under the cover of darkness, chocolates in hand. Axel gave up on finding the light, choosing instead to send an angry, whiny text message to Demyx.

And Roxas still wouldn't answer his phone.

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**I was all excited for the Chevy scene, and it totally morphed out of control into this… thing. It was supposed to be sweet and flirty! Darn.**

**Note: for people who don't know, or would rather not google it-- tenors are basically anywhere from 4 to 7 (or maybe 6) different pitched drums that are attached together so one percussionist can play all of them. They're lower sounding than snares, and (in my opinion) way cooler than snare or bass. Mellophones look a bit like trumpets, only bigger, and french horn players use them for marching.**

**Um um um um, thank you to the awesome reviewers. I looove you! Like cake! No, more than cake. You and your reviews are cake for my SOUL.**

**And I'm looking forward to writing the next chapter: enter Zack! And child abuse! By Zack! What fun.**


	7. Always Wear Your Safety Goggles!

**So… yeah. 5,000+ hits and more awesome reviews than I could dream for! You guys are amazing.** **Prepare for fluff. You will choke on it!**

"Laugh at the night,

at the day, at the moon,

laugh at the twisted

streets of the island,

laugh at this clumsy boy who loves you."

--- Pablo Neruda

Cloud propped his feet up on the empty chair at his table. Axel sat next to him, his chin held up by one hand, looking bored. And more than a little peeved.

"I can't believe I got paired up with _Zack_ to do some stupid, pointless band thing. You know how Zack is. What is Mr. Cavanaugh thinking? What's wrong with him? He can't make us do it," Axel griped, banging his straw violently against the table to remove the paper. He tore it up and left the shreds on the red and white checkered table cloth.

"If you skip out on it, you'll be on his 'I-hate-you-so-go-die' list forever," Cloud reminded the redhead. He flipped through the breakfast menu, humming to himself. "Be positive-- you get to go see Roxas. I mean, sure, he isn't talking to you, but--"

"Yeah, thanks Cloud," Axel interrupted, looking even more pissed. "You seem happy."

"I am happy. Today is going to be a good day," Cloud said, his typically low and somber voice filled with hopeful optimism, his deep blue eyes shining.

"Right. Well, you have fun, Cloud. Eat lots of pancakes and be merry," Axel said, eking out a small smile. "I have to go find Zack and figure out what the hell we're going to do with the kids."

"Good luck with that."

"Shut up, blondie," Axel growled. He flicked Cloud on the side of his head before walking away, muttering about insane drum majors.

The blonde just shrugged and sipped on his coffee. He looked around for his waiter, but saw her nowhere. The tiny café was packed with students waiting hungrily for breakfast, and numerous waiters were bustling between the tables. The small, family owned place was popular and often busy, so Cloud was used to waiting for service.

"Hey, sorry. Today's insane. What can I get for you?" the black and white clad waiter asked Cloud, appearing from nowhere with pad and pen in hand.

"O-Oh, right," Cloud stuttered as he opened up the menu. "I want the Pancake Platter with extra hash browns. And blueberry syrup. Oh, and more coffee, please."

The waiter smiled and took the menu that Cloud handed to her. "It'll just be a few minutes."

Cloud waited for the perky girl to walk away before leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes blissfully. Today was going to be a day of sweet, sweet relaxation-- he didn't have any classes, no band practice, and he'd had a full night's worth of sleep for the first time in over a week. Life was good.

Cloud let out a grateful sigh as he heard the waiter set his refilled coffee cup on the table. "Wow, thanks for getting my coffee so quickly. I know you guys are busy and-- oh God."

The blonde nearly tipped over in his chair as he realized that the waiter was not the one who had brought the coffee and that Leon was now sitting across from him.

"W-what are you doing here? How did you sit down without me hearing it? Why did you bring me coffee? I mean, it was nice of you and all, but--"

"Stop talking," Leon interrupted. "And I didn't bring you any coffee. That's _my_ cup."

"Oh. Well, I don't feel like _too_ much of an idiot right now," Cloud said sarcastically. He frowned as Leon took a slow, taunting sip of his black coffee. "So why are you sitting at my table?"

"Need to talk," the brunette muttered. He picked at the sleeve of his formfitting white shirt. "Cavanaugh found out that neither of us have any classes to take today."

"No." Cloud's eyes went wide.

"Yes. But he gave us two options-- either we both go visit some middle or high school and help a bunch of brats with their practice, or we can organize the library. We're going to do the library."

Cloud clenched his teeth at the finality in Leon's tone. If he hadn't actually preferred the library option, he would've been up in arms over Leon choosing for them. "Great."

"Be in the band room at one." The senior drained the last of his coffee and stood. Waiters and standing customers stepped aside as he made for the restaurant's exit.

"Friend of yours?" his waiter asked in awe, once again popping in unexpectedly. She set the oversized plate of golden pancakes in front of the blonde and smiled, her eyes following the handsome leather-clad senior as he walked out the door.

"Not quite," Cloud answered, poking his pancakes angrily. _'At least I only have to work in the music library with him. The asshole.'_

"Oh no," Roxas said dismally. "No. You're kidding me." He dropped his back pack on the green carpeted floor of the bandroom and shuffled into a chair. "What is he doing here?"

"Oh my God. Roxas. He's hotter than I remembered!" Kairi leaned over Roxas' shoulder, whispering ecstatically in his ear about the benefits of an older man. She squealed every time Axel glanced at her and Roxas. Which was often.

"There's something about college people and weird hair," Tidus observed, looking back and forth between Axel and Zack. "It looks like… spiky dreadlocks. Weird. Do you think he's Jamaican?"

Kairi blinked slowly. "No, moron. He's not Jamaican, and those don't even _look_ like dreadlocks. It's just… extra spiky. Why are you so stupid?"

"Why is your face so stupid?"

"Why is your brain so stupid?" Kairi asked with a cruel smile.

"Cause it has to be around you, that's why," Tidus retorted. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair confidently.

"Yeah? Well, you have a small penis," Kairi said bluntly. And loudly.

Tidus sputtered angrily and was unable to form a coherent sentence. "No-- that's--no, I mean--you are-- is not!"

"Is too," she singsonged, grinning maliciously. "But let's talk about something we don't already know. Like… why is Axel not over here hanging all over Roxas? Roxas, make him come over here!"

"No."

"Do it. Do it, do it, do it!"

"No, I-we're… not talking," Roxas stammered out. He flinched as Kairi squinted disbelievingly at him.

"What?"

"He hung up on me."

Kairi let her jaw drop. "Roxas, you're such a girl! You hang up on me all the time! And on Sora, but we all do that from time to time, so it's no big deal."

"Hey," Sora protested from two seats over. "You guys are horrible." He turned back around in his chair to face Riku, who was blushing as he tried to figure out how to hold Sora's piccolo. The brunette laughed as he corrected the senior, grabbing his hands and moving them into the right position. Kairi smiled and rolled her eyes at the two.

"See? That's what you and Axel should be doing. Right now. This very instant. Giggling and being cute together." Kairi winked at him. "Or maybe, you know, a little quality time alone in the drum room, in the dark--"

"Uh, no."

"Well, whatever you're going to-- oh!" Kairi looked up in surprise as Axel tapped her on the shoulder.

"Sorry to interrupt," the redhead apologized, running a hand over his hair to smooth down the stray strands. He fidgeted nervously, alternating between toying with the hem of his shirt and sticking his hands in his pockets.

"Oh, no, you're not interrupting anything," Kairi exclaimed. She gave Roxas an impish smile when she was sure no one else would see it. The blonde felt his stomach plummet. "We were just talking about you! But by we, I mean Roxas," she explained to her fellow redhead, ignoring the snickers of Tidus and Roxas' increasing horror. "He feels horrible about not answering you, or calling, and he wants to make things up to you after school today. Oh, and he'd like to take the "relationship" to the next level soon, so I'd start making plans if I were you."

Axel's face was comparable to a child that'd just been told he'd received the much coveted pony as a present for his birthday. He grinned like a Cheshire cat, his eyes looking hopefully to Roxas for confirmation.

The blonde couldn't say no; Axel's smile was worse than puppy dog eyes. "She's right."

"Sweet!" the redhead shouted, pumping his fist in the air. "I love you," he said, surprising Kairi with a hug. He stuck out one long arm, pulling Roxas into the hugging-zone. "But not as much as I love _you_," he whispered into Roxas' ear.

Kairi was caught between the two boys, and ecstatic about it, to say the least. "Group hug!" She wrapped her arms around them and forcibly pushed them closer, slowly squeezing herself out until the two boys were left smushed together.

Yuffie stood next to her to survey the work. "Aw! You've done well, Kairi."

"I know, I know. Love really is amazing, isn't it?" she asked, smiling brightly as she tucked a loose strand of deep reddish hair behind her ear.

"Absolutely," the enthusiastic brunette answered. "C'mon, Kairi. Let's leave these two looove birds alone. Who knows what hanky-panky they might be planning," she smirked, slapping Roxas on the ass as she walked past him, Kairi following her and trying to stifle her giggles.

"Oh God," Roxas whispered after they left, vaguely mortified about what had just happened. Everything felt oddly vague to him right now; who he was, what time it was, where he was. The only thing he was fully aware of was the extremely warm and comfortable body holding him. He let out a tiny, satisfied sigh.

"I heard that." Roxas felt the redhead's chest shake as he laughed. Axel eventually pulled back and separated himself from the blonde, unwrapping his gangly arms and taking one of Roxas' wrists in each hand. He rubbed his thumbs over the soft underside of the boy's wrists, tracing the patterns of the barely visible veins. "So, Roxas… you're not still upset, are you?"

The blonde sighed, tipping his head back tiredly. "No, I'm over it, and I'm fully aware of how stupid that was. Leave me alone about it."

"Okay, okay. Um… are you and me dating? Like… exclusively?"

"I am. I don't know about you, but I'm not exactly interested in anyone else," Roxas admitted, his face turning pink. He pushed his bangs away from his face impatiently, looking up at Axel uncertainly. "If you don't want to be--"

"Oh, I do," Axel assured him with a crooked grin. "God, Roxas… I probably didn't make this clear before, but you make me feel… like I'm complete. Pretty corny, right? But that's how it feels! And I want to have a relationship, a real one, not just a fling or something. If that's too intense for you right now-- and I wouldn't blame you, since you're still in high school and all-- just say so."

Roxas didn't falter in his gaze, keeping his cobalt eyes locked with viridian ones. Without looking away, he peeled Axel's hands from his wrists and, ignoring the surprised expression on the older man's face, entwined his own fingers with those of the redhead. "I think I can handle something long term," Roxas smiled. "My mom always told me I was mature for my age."

"So mature that you ignore someone for accidentally hanging up on you?" Axel asked sweetly with a devilish smirk in place.

"Don't get me started," Roxas warned him sternly. The persistent tug of a smile at the corners of his mouth made it ineffective.

"Will do," Axel said happily. "Just as long as you don't deprive me of you ever again, if you can help it."

"Obsessed stalker."

"Damn straight." Axel winked --it was more of a squint really, but Roxas wasn't complaining-- and put an arm around the blonde. Under normal circumstances, Roxas would have made a deal of squirming and whining. For now he was content with the comforting heat of Axel to his side and the reassuring pressure of the redhead's arm looped around his shoulders.

"Hey, lover boys," Sora greeted them a second later, his tiny silver piccolo held carefully in his hands. "I hate to interrupt, but class is starting to fill up, and _Roxas_ needs to go warm up. The little clarinet-playing delinquent," he added with false spite, jabbing at the blonde with the dainty piccolo. "Get thee to thy clarinet! Now."

"Yeah, yeah," Roxas said with a wave of his hand. "I'm going." He hesitated, looking back to Axel once more; the redhead gave him a thumbs up and then shooed him away. Roxas rolled his eyes before sitting down amongst the other clarinetists. He pulled out his case and began assembling his instrument, starting with the bell and building up to the mouthpiece. He let his reed hang limply out of his mouth, holding it in place with his teeth.

Roxas sat second chair to the clarinet section leader, Quistis Trepe. She was an active section leader, to say the least; she was fervently dedicated to improving the clarinet group as a whole, often calling for sectionals and individual rehearsals with her. She was stringent about rules and regulations and was notorious for handing out demerits left and right, even for minor infringements. She was also notorious for riding her section harder than anyone else's.

"Roxas, how are you doing in the second song? Have you memorized it? Is measure twenty-four still giving you problems?" she asked urgently as she carefully put her reed in place and checked its position. Her polished look and crisp attire made her seem businesslike and professional; Roxas always felt as though he was in a boardroom meeting when he was around her.

"No, I think I've got it," he answered truthfully as he fiddled idly with his keys, checking for any sticking pads or loose screws. "Are we even playing today? I thought Axel and that guy were doing a presentation or something."

"Or something," Quistis shrugged.

Roxas chewed gently on his reed, mulling happily over the recent events with Axel. His insides felt like they were being tugged a thousand different ways, tingling like electricity at some times and subsiding to a burning ache at others. This was a big step, he realized, especially for someone like him, who had never even had a boyfriend or a girlfriend before. It was new and frightening, and almost more exhilarating than he could bear. His heart stopped when he thought of all the things he wanted to do with Axel. Yes, _those_ things.

"Roxas, are you okay?" Quistis asked concernedly from beside him. "Your face is awfully red, and I think you stopped breathing."

Roxas sucked in a much needed breath and answered her quickly. "Yeah, I'm fine. Fine, fine, fine." He smiled extra big to prove just how completely fine and normal he was. Quistis raised her eyebrows but chose not to question him any further.

"Alright, Twilight kids," Axel said from the front of the room. He moved a tall stool next to the conductor's podium and perched himself on it. He waited for all the chatter to die down and for every pair of eyes to be focused on him. "I'm Axel MacKenna, for those of you who may not already know," he announced. "I'm the drum captain for RGU's drumline. I'm also its best tenor player. My associate, Zack, should be out here any time now," Axel said loudly, checking his watch and frowning.

"Hey, that's my cue," the dark haired man said from the door. "Sorry, I was peeing. But now I'm back!" He strode to the front of the room, stepping up onto the podium and leaning onto the conducting stand. "Hi, group! I'm Zack Fair, and I play sax. I also happen to be one of RGU's assistant drum majors. I work for Baralai, whom I'm sure many of you met at the workshop thingy a while back," Zack babbled as he toyed with his conducting baton. "I wasn't there because of an extended family problem, don't ask, but now I'm back, and those of you who missed me the first time around have the opportunity to meet me! What a great day it is for you."

The room was eerily silent until one of the percussionists dropped a pair of cymbals, making a resounding crash that jolted everyone in the room.

Zack just smiled as the drummers frantically panicked over grabbing the cymbals. "And now," the man said happily, "I will start my life-changing lecture on advice for playing music. Part one--" Axel slouched over and covered his face with his hands in shame "--always, always, always wear your safety goggles. Now, that may not sound like it's relevant to marching band or music in general, but let me tell you a story: the sad, sad story of little Jimmy."

Axel shook his head sadly as Zack continued with his speech. "One day, on a football field much like yours, the school was doing lawn maintenance. But the band had to practice so the wise band director said, 'Make sure you wear these goggles while you practice'. Everybody listened and did what he said-- everybody except Jimmy. And while they were marching, the lawn workers were mowing, and weed whacking, and crap was flying everywhere!" Zack spazzed out, waving his arms in large, circular motions to demonstrate the disorder of the flying crap. "And a tiny twig was flung by a weed whacker _right into little Jimmy's eye_. Jimmy didn't wear goggles, and now he doesn't need to. Cause he's blind. Now isn't that sad?"

Tidus coughed to break the band room's silence. Roxas watched unblinkingly with his chin held in one hand, feeling a strange combination of pity and disbelief for the man. Zack was hot, but not too well equipped in the 'I'm-sane-and-make-sense' department.

"Exactly," Zack agreed… to Tidus' cough. "And the moral of the story is-- always listen to your band director, and always, always, always wear your safety goggles. I cannot stress this enough. You may not like wearing protective goggles 'cause they don't look _cool_, or _hot_, or you get made fun of because they leave red, raccoon-like imprints around your eyes after you take them off, but I can assure you of this: nothing is cooler or hotter than maintaining your optical faculties. Am I right? Am I right? Yes, I am. I hope you learned something today. That's it." Zack clapped his hands together and smiled. "Any questions? Anyone? Anyone? Okay, then maybe Axel has some advice for you," he said expectantly, turning to his left to face the redhead.

"Yeah, yeah," Axel confirmed. "Well, for starters, always write on your music. If you miss a note, or a rhythm, mark it so you won't make the same mistake again. You should improve every time you replay a song. If you have to write "Don't miss the C sharp you fucking moron" above the measure to get your attention, do it. Uh, but with a better choice of words, perhaps," he amended quickly, remembering he was back in school. The class snickered. "And when you're on the field, act as though everything that happens was done on purpose. If someone marches into you, or you get lost during the drill, you make it work. Pretend it was supposed to be that way, because the average Joe sitting up in the stands won't be able to tell the difference."

"Right," Zack said, nodding. "Remember last year when Balthier's shoe came off during that football game against U of Yensid? He just kept on marching like it didn't even happen! That's what you have to do."

"You hear that, Tidus? Maybe we shoulda had this talk last year, ya?" Wakka said from the back row, nudging Tidus in the arm.

"It was an honest mistake, anyone would have done the same!" Tidus shouted as he slapped Wakka's hand away.

"Nah, I don't think many other people would have bent over and tied their shoe in the middle of a performance," Yuffie giggled. "That's just you being an idiot."

"What was I supposed to do? Leave it alone and fall on my face after I step on a loose lace?" the blonde growled. "Do you have any idea how painful it is to fall on top of a trombone? A lot. A lot painful. And stop ganging up on me!"

Zack gave a low whistle, bringing the students' attention back to the front of the room. "Someone's got _issues_… but anyway," he continued despite Tidus' angry glare and the threatening gestures he was making with his trombone, "we have work to get done. You guys are doing a Broadway themed show, correct? Fiddler on the Roof, Luck Be a Lady, Maria/Cool, On Broadway… sounds like good stuff. Let's do a little playing, shall we? From the beginning of Luck Be a Lady."

Zack straightened up and lifted his arms out in front of him; he snapped out the tempo to himself as he glanced over the score. He gave them the count-off and started conducting as the trombones began playing the first few measures. Roxas watched the fluid motion of Zack's hands as he waited for the clarinets' entrance. The calm, sweeping gestures that the spiky haired man made seemed completely contrary to his attitude and personality; up on the podium, Zack looked more authoritative and professional than most of the drum majors and conductors Roxas had ever witnessed. His violet-blue eyes were focused and intense.

After only the first few bars of music, Zack had cut them off and was leering at the trombone section. "Trombones, trombones, trombones… what was that? You sound like a dying cow being hit over the head with a two-by-four! Come on, I know you guys can do better! Let's try again."

It turned out that Zack was just as much of a perfectionist as Axel. After having the trombone section replay their part over and over, he decided to have them each try it one by one. He pointed at each trombonist down the line and listened to their part in turn.

Tidus, the fourth chair out of twelve trombones, was talented but incredibly unmotivated, simply picking and choosing the music he would practice based on how much he liked it. And Luck Be a Lady was not a song he liked. He stumbled through the measures, missing notes and rhythms left and right. "Oh well," he shrugged when he finished. "Close enough."

A pencil whizzed by his face, followed closely by a conducting baton that he deflected at the last second with his horn. "Sweet Jesus! What the hell was that?" the blonde screamed.

"I should be asking the same thing," Zack answered calmly, acting as though he hadn't just thrown multiple pointy objects at a student. "That was horrible. And I mean _horrible_. No, little buddy. No. And there isn't a "close enough", you hear? There's correct and there's wrong, and nothing in between."

Tidus mumbled something about goggles and insane drum majors, but nodded and obediently looked to his music, figuring out the notes and counting out the rhythms. Like hell he was going to be attacked with flying objects again.

The rest of the session continued that way after that, with Zack pelting students with paper balls and objects from the conductor's stand until there was nothing left for him to throw. Tidus, in particular, seemed to be his favourite target-- mouthpieces, bottles of key and valve oil, books, shoes, and even a stapler had been sent his way, courtesy of Zack Fair. He also paused to laughingly show them Mr. Pipey, a medium sized length of white PVC pipe that he said he liked to use on "special cases". Tidus gulped as Zack grinned his way.

The blonde trombonist was the first one out the door when the bell rang, leaving his instrument and backpack behind in his rush to leave. The smarter musicians followed his lead, scampering out of the room before incurring Zack's wrath.

"Run, little kiddies! Run!" the dark haired man laughed maniacally, his hands upturned and his fingers curved like claws. "Oh, oh," he panted after the class had emptied, only a few stragglers remaining. "That was great." He wiped carefully at his eyes, removing the tears of laughter.

"At least someone had fun today," the redhead grumbled, trying hard to contain his smile. _'I feel bad for Zack's future children,'_ he thought grimly.

"Hell yes. God, I hope I run into that Tidus kid again before I leave," he said excitedly. "See, I've got this railroad spike--"

"Hey, don't you have a date with Aerith tonight?" Axel interrupted him, knowing that Tidus' life probably depended on Zack not finding him.

"Ohmygoshyou'reright!" Zack said in one breath, grabbing his bag and running for the door. "I can't believe I forgot that! Thank you, thank you, thank you, Axel! I love you and I'd give you a hug but I'm running out the door right now so it'll have to wait until I see you tomorrow cause this is going to be one _hot_ date, so I won't be seeing you till after tonight, if you know what I mean, THANK YOU!" he yelled, continuing to talk even after he left the room and was walking down the hall.

Axel ignored him. The redhead moved to stand next to Roxas as he dismantled his clarinet and put the pieces into his case. "It's a good thing Zack and I aren't education majors, isn't it?"

"I dunno. I think the band improved more in this one period than we usually do in a week. Of course, that's cause we were all fearing for our safety, so it might not be the most respected teaching method. I thought it was funny, personally. Not that I'm sadistic or anything. But…" Roxas' lips curved up into a smile as he caught Axel staring at him, his eyes unfocused and glazed over. The redhead had a dizzy grin stuck in place. Roxas went back to putting his things away.

"Oh, sorry, Rox," Axel apologized a moment later. "I completely just… zoned out. Sorry. I wasn't paying attention to a thing you just--"

"About what?"

"Eh?"

"What were you zoning out about?"

"Oh… that. I mean-- uh. Yeah," Axel stammered out, his face growing steadily more red and his movements more twitchy. "Nothing. Just-- nothing. And definitely nothing sexual," he blurted out. The redhead gritted his teeth and had to use every ounce of self-control he had to keep from slapping himself and covering his mouth before it could betray him again.

"Right," Roxas winked, nodding. "Nothing sexual. Got it."

"No, really!"

"Really. I believe you," Roxas said seriously. He winked again.

"Stop it!" Axel laughed as he felt his face grow hot. "God, I can't believe you actually winked… that's so unlike you. And it's bad enough that everything I say is see-through, you don't need to make it worse."

"I think it's sweet," Roxas smiled softly as he slid his clarinet case into his locker and picked up his backpack. He saw the flush over Axel's cheeks and grinned. Roxas like this feeling, the knowledge that he could affect another person so easily. One word from him, one gesture, could make Axel putty in his hands. Putty! He was slightly unnerved when he realized it could go both ways.

"Sweet, hm? I'd like something sweet," Axel smiled, his face still tinged by the fading red.

"Come with me," Roxas said suddenly, turning to face the redhead. "I've got a study hall right now, but I never go anyway, so it doesn't matter." He latched on to Axel's elbow and tugged him down the hall. They walked in silence as the blonde led them out of the school and onto the street in front of it. Other students with free periods milled around the area, talking and eating or playing soccer in the grassy areas that lined the road.

Roxas stopped in front of a small ice cream stand. "This is it. You are about to taste the best ice cream you've ever had," he said excitedly, digging through his pockets for change. Axel watched amusedly as Roxas searched his pants for change, patting down the many cargo pockets that lined his legs.

"Got enough pockets?"

"You can never have too many," Roxas muttered. "I'm sure I had another two dollars somewhere." He reached into another pocket hopefully.

"It's alright, I've got some cash, I--"

"No! I mean, no," the blonde said quickly, laughing nervously. "I just… I'm buying this for you, okay? It's my way of celebrating, you know, us being official. It won't be the same if you pay, cause this is something that _I'm_ sharing with _you_."

Axel smiled as he put his wallet back in the pocket of his jeans. As he watched Roxas contort himself in odd ways to try and dig through all of his pockets, he realized that this must be important for the blonde. What significance the ice cream held for Roxas, he did not know, but he was more than grateful for the boy sharing it with him.

"Got it!" Roxas shouted, running up to the counter. The ice cream parlor looked like it had come from straight out of the fifties, complete with dusty neon signs and once stylish white chairs. The entire eating area was outdoors; you ordered from the front counter of the tiny building and could either take a seat at one of the ancient tables or sit on the grass next to the tiny duck pond beside the stand. Axel opted for the grass, going ahead and picking a shady spot well away from the ducks and geese that were bathing in the water.

Roxas came to him a few minutes later with a light blue popsicle in each hand. He passed one to Axel as he sat on the ground next to him, licking the ice cream happily.

Axel sniffed the frozen treat unsurely. "What is this?"

"Sea-Salt ice cream," Roxas answered without pausing in his slurping of the ice cream bar. "Try it! You'll love it."

Axel bit into the bar. He moved the large chunk of freezing dairy quickly around in his mouth, gasping at the cold. "Oh mah God, Rosh. Ith fumcking cold!" he shouted with his mouth full, waving his arms frantically as he struggled to hurry up and swallow the ice cream.

"You idiot," Roxas laughed. "You're not supposed to_ bite_ ice cream. You lick it." He demonstrated the proper technique for the redhead, running his tongue from the bottom of the popsicle all the way to the tip. He caught a falling drop of melted ice cream on his tongue as he would a falling snowflake. He showed Axel proudly, leaning over to the man and pointing at his tongue. "Shee?"

"Mmhmm," Axel smirked, loving every second of it.

"So do you like it?" Roxas asked carefully, looking at Axel out of the corner of one eye.

"Yeah, actually," Axel said, surprised. He nibbled at the edges of the ice cream. "It's a little like pistachio, but… sweeter, in a way. And it's not green. Still salty though. It's not like any kind I've tried before."

"But you like it?"

"Absolutely."

"Good," Roxas smiled. "I used to eat this stuff all the time with my mom," he said happily, looking up at the clouds. "We'd get Sea-Salt ice cream everyday after school and eat it while we walked home. We stopped doing it once I started middle school."

"Why?"

Roxas shrugged. "I guess Mom thought I was too old, or something. That was right about the time she quit her job, too. She wasn't very active after that, didn't like going outside or anything. I stayed home with her and Dad more and more, and the more I stayed there, the harder it got to relate to anyone else. It was my hermit phase. It wasn't until I met Sora that I started keeping friends again, and he was the one I started going out for this ice cream with again." He finished off the last of his Sea-Salt ice cream with a sigh and started chewing on the stick.

"I should thank Sora for that," Axel smiled. "For getting you out into the world again. Or else I might never have gotten the opportunity to meet you."

"And vice versa," Roxas agreed, putting his hands out behind him and leaning back on his arms. He stretched his legs out in front of him and arched his back, feeling full and contented. "Oh, Sora. I wonder if he even realizes the miracles he works," the blonde chuckled. He made a small shocked noise mid-laugh.

Roxas looked down in surprise to see Axel's hand covering his, the longer, slightly darker fingers resting between his own, spread out like a fan. He studied the older man's hand; it was long and slender, with surprisingly elegant fingers and a large, curved thumb. It was the type of hand he would attribute to a violinist or a trumpeter, maybe even a flutist-- but not a drummer. Roxas compared it to his own; paler and smaller, with a squarer shape. His tapered fingers were only two thirds of the length of Axel's. He decided, with a small smile, that he rather liked the look of their hands together.

When Roxas lifted his head to share this revelation, he found himself only inches from Axel. He could hear the redhead's breath, could feel it ghosting across his skin. He smelled like smoke and sugar, and the sweet tang of oranges. The blonde was drawn into those bright green eyes, focusing on them and their surrounding features; the fine, brilliant red eyebrows above, the bold black tattoos below, the pale freckles that dotted the bridge of his nose. Roxas watched the jade eyes flicker over his face before stopping on his eyes, looking for permission. He nodded.

Roxas closed his eyes as he felt Axel lean in slowly and press his lips gently against his own. He ran his free hand through Axel's hair, pushing through the unruly spikes and exploring the silky smooth texture of the unfamiliar strands. He felt the redhead's hand trailing down against his face, running slowly along his jaw line. The chaste kiss ended with a smile from Axel, a smile that Roxas could feel. He finally opened his eyes and pouted at the amused smirk on the drummer's face.

"What?"

Axel let out a bark of a laugh. "You keep your eyes closed when you kiss. Like, the entire time. It's adorable."

Roxas pressed a hand against his forehead and sighed. "It's not like I can help it," he complained. "That was instinct! Doesn't everyone do it?"

"No. But don't let that stop you," the redhead said encouragingly. "Like I said, it was adorable. And cute. Endearing, even." Axel wrapped an arm around Roxas' shoulders, pulling him close. "You're growing on me, Rox."

"I have that tendency," the blonde smirked coyly, laying his head on Axel's shoulder.

"That's excellent, 'cause I know for a fact that I'm growing on you, too," Axel winked. "Now let's go buy some more ice cream, _my_ treat this time."

Cloud dropped a heavy stack of music onto the table beside him. He swept the back of his hand across his forehead, wiping away the fine layer of sweat caused by the cramped, stuffy room. The music library was a long and narrow, and filled from the floor to the ceiling with sheet music. The shelves, once orderly and alphabetized, had become a mess beyond belief-- papers covered the floor and the counters, theory and warm-up books lay strewn about the small room, and every semblance of alphabetization had been thrown out the window. In short, it was Cloud's worst nightmare.

The blonde picked up a music folder and fanned himself, looking spitefully toward Leon, who stood on a stepladder at the other end of the room. "How anyone can wear leather _all the time_ is beyond me," he muttered to himself. "It's got to be some kind of fetish. That's the only explanation." Cloud shook his head as realized he was staring. He bent over the table and started working to distract himself. His eyes, in an obvious act of rebellion against his mind, were constantly casting sidelong glances at the silent brunette.

"Stop it," he told himself angrily. "Just stop it!"

"Stop what?" Leon asked flatly from across the room.

"Uh… nothing," Cloud blushed. "I was just… talking. To myself. About… nothing." He bit his lip as soon as the words were out, wondering why he couldn't control himself. This was exactly why people thought he was crazy. Did _Leon_ think he was crazy?

"Well, that's not _too_ crazy," Leon said sarcastically, looking over at Cloud and arching an eyebrow. He held a stack of solos in one hand and the score for Festive Overture in the other.

Cloud grimaced and went back to organizing the music parts, counting them as he divided them into stacks. He was so occupied that he didn't realize Leon was next to him until the man snatched a paper out of his hand.

"Are you counting, Strife? Counting _and_ organizing at the same time?"

"Maybe."

Leon put a hand on his hip and leaned against a shelf. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a little neurotic?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a little heartless?"

One side of Leon's mouth turned up-- but only for a second. "Daily."

"Oh… me too. Not the heartless thing, the neurotic thing," Cloud explained, fiddling absently with a piece of music. He felt suddenly self-conscious in his plain blue shirt and jeans. Leon's leather pants might be uncomfortable, but he looked damn cool in them. Cloud shuffled behind a table to try and hide his un-cool pants.

"Yeah, that's what I figured," Leon murmured. He looked grumpily around the disheveled room. Even after the two hours they had spent in here, it looked the same as when they'd walked in. "You know, I wasn't expecting the library to be this… annoying."

"The mess certainly is persistent," Cloud agreed sadly. "It's driving me crazy."

Leon snorted as he put a packet of music in place on one of the shelves. "And it's hot in here. Too much body heat, not enough air conditioning."

"I'm sure your black leather pants aren't helping any," Cloud said smugly.

Leon stopped halfway through shelving a folder and turned to face the blonde. "I'll have you know that I've worn these pants in temperatures _much_ higher than this, and with minimal discomfort."

"Really."

"Really," Leon said forcefully, giving Cloud a look. "Leather might bother some people, but it's just as comfortable as denim to me."

Cloud looked at the pants again and winced. "Hell, I couldn't even fit myself into those. Well… maybe if I could go liquid like that girl from that Alex Mack show. Or like those kids in the Capri Sun commercials."

Leon looked up at the ceiling desperately.

"Oh, come on, I know you've seen those, Leon."

"That isn't the point," the brunette said exasperatedly. "Who talks like that? Who actually brings shit like that up in conversation?"

"Me. I do that." Cloud looked at him expressionlessly. "You know, maybe I should stop talking. Since I can't stop myself from making _stupid_ references. Oh, and I still hate you for being an asshole about the grilled cheese that one day at the workshop."

Leon shrugged. "Whatever." He went back to sorting and shelving music, completely ignoring the blonde.

Cloud clenched his jaw and refused to talk to the older man. He walked behind Leon, turned his back on him, and began organizing the music on the opposite wall. _'Heartless, insensitive, stupid, heartless, icy bastard,'_ Cloud fumed to himself. He pushed the folder of Songs of Sailor and Sea into its place rougher than he'd intended, the music hitting the back of the shelf and bending sideways. Cloud pulled the folder out and smoothed it down, trying to flatten the crinkles and folds. He blamed Leon for it-- after all, it had been the brunette that had started all of this confrontation, with his asinine remarks and snideness.

The close quarters of the library made it hard for Cloud to ignore Leon. Since they were back to back in the narrow room, their shoulders and arms would occasionally brush. The blonde was jolted from his work each time.

Cloud glanced over his shoulder quickly-- Leon was facing the other wall, focused on the music. The blonde looked back over his shoulder again, carefully watching to see if Leon would turn around. Cloud let his eyes dip lower. _'God, those pants are tight. I just wanna--'_

"See something you like, Strife?" Leon asked without even turning around.

Cloud's eyes went wide. Maybe there was more to the cold brunette than he'd realized. "Leon, are you… psychic?"

In response, the brunette pointed to the corner of the room, where a mirror was wedged between the ceiling and the wall. He turned to face the blonde, his hands braced against the shelf behind him. The brunette leaned back against the wall of music, smirking. "I've seen you looking at me the whole time. You really should be a little more observant, Strife. Or at least a little less blatantly obvious in your staring."

"Oh. Oh," Cloud said dumbly, his face going red. "I had no idea-- holy shit… uh… I was totally _not_ looking at yo--"

Cloud was stopped midsentence by Leon's lips. The brunette pinned him against the wall, knocking folders filled with music to the floor, the papers spilling everywhere. Cloud felt the shelf carving into his back as Leon pressed himself harder against the blonde.

Cloud made a small noise of surprise against the brunette's mouth as he struggled against him. Leon, Cloud soon discovered, didn't have those muscular arms just for show. He held the trombonist securely against the wall as he greedily bit and tugged at his lips, his larger, firmer frame pushing against the blonde. Cloud's eyes fluttered at the sensation. He settled his arms on top of the wider shoulders of the dark haired man, fighting him for dominance in the kiss, nipping and biting back at his lips.

They parted suddenly for air, breathing wildly and, at least in Cloud's case, looking bewildered.

"So," Cloud gasped. "What was that for? You… kind of took me by surprise. Not that I'm complaining or anything."

"Eh, pity kiss," Leon said breathily.

"No way," Cloud disagreed as they pulled apart, his face still flushed. "As much as it kills me to admit it, I know what pity kisses are like. And that was not one of them."

"Gotten a lot of sympathy kisses before, Strife?" Leon asked, smiling cheekily.

Cloud gasped. "You! You just smiled! I've never seen you actually smile before."

Leon straightened his face out, removing all traces of the previous smile. "Actually, that was just a facial tic, an involuntary spasm that I have no control over. And I would prefer if you don't mention it again, because it makes me self-conscious."

"You're so… weird. Yet sexy," Cloud admitted with a blush.

"And you're just weird," Leon said dryly as he returned to his shelving. "And this-- what just happened, I mean-- never leaves the library."

Cloud grinned. He noted, possibly with more satisfaction than he'd ever felt before in his life, that a bulge in the front of Leon's pants was making the leather material even tighter on the brunette. And judging from the pained expression on the senior's face, Cloud was willing to bet that Leon wasn't finding the pants as comfortable as he usually did.

'_Serves him right, the frigid, sexy bastard.'_

It was nearly nine when Roxas heard his phone beep. He flipped it open to see that he'd gotten a text message from Axel.

_Hey rox:) Couldnt sleep. Quiz! Whats ur fave kind of soda?_

He texted back quickly, happy to have something to do in the dull hours of early night.

_Hey u. Its dr pepper._

Seconds after sending it he received Axel's reply, starting a rapid text conversation.

_Mines sprite. What abt flowers?;D_

_Roses._

_U like chocolate?_

_Luv it._

_Sweet. Fave color?_

_White n black._

_Shoulda known. All those checkers. XD_

_Urs?_

_I like red. N orange. Green 2. Black. All of them._

_Figures. Y do u ask?_

_Just wanted 2 knw more bout u. Im a good boyfriend like that. :)_

_Yay boyfriends!_

_I agree. W00t rox is my boyfriend. :3_

_Good night, boyfriend. Sleep tite._

_I would if u were here. :(_

_But ur bed only fits 1._

_Id make it work. Wink wink._

_Good night, pervy boyfriend._

_XD_

**Phew. This chappie is pushin' twenty. AND OMG TWO KISSES. It also took a long time cause I wrote an awesome new story called Blue Moon. Go read it now! (Have I no shame?) **

I hate chatspeak. I'm horrible at writing it cause I hardly EVER shorten words like that, even in texts. My friends and I type everything out so… it's not very believable, I know.

Sorry about typos. I've reread it and reread it, but they're still going to be there. Sorry.

**(hint hint) Reviews make me write faster! Well, maybe not faster, but BETTER! Better is good. Every review increases my output to not-sucking ratio by 4.873 percent! Statistics don't lie, my friends. So tell me what you think! Do it now!**


	8. Desire

**OMFGSQUEE! The last chapter was officially THE most reviewed chapter of all of Ars Musica. You know why? Cause there was kissage. Yep. I've discovered the secret to making you review. I know what y'all want… YOU WANT SEX! I get it now. **

**Luckily, with the stuff that's been going on, there should be a lot more lovin'. But no sex yet. Sorry. : (**

"I celebrate myself, and sing myself,

and what I assume you shall assume,

For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you."

--- Walt Whitman

Axel leaned over Roxas, pressing him down against the narrow bed. Roxas looked up at the redhead invitingly, running his small hands over the older man's shoulders, trailing his fingers over the fabric of his shirt. The redhead leaned over him, nuzzling the crook of the boy's neck before working his way back to his lips. The blonde was pulling his fingers through Axel's hair, making the man crane his neck to lean into the touch.

Roxas moved one of his hands lower, rubbing the nape of Axel's neck slowly as the other hand continued to gently twist and pull at the scarlet red hair. Roxas had found that Axel had an exceptionally sensitive head and delighted in others touching or brushing his hair; it was the redhead's weakness, one that the blonde fully exploited.

Roxas inhaled sharply as Axel nibbled at his ear. He wound his hands tighter in the cherry hair as Axel trailed his warm tongue along the length of his ear, playfully nipping at the lobe again. The redhead trailed wet kisses down the boy's neck again, leaving a chain of reddened love-bites.

Axel captured his lips again, putting one hand under Roxas' head and tilting it back to deepen the kiss. He tugged and bit gently at the boy's lips, leaving them reddened. The redhead flicked his tongue teasingly at the blonde's, challenging him to be more active. Axel kissed him full on the lips once again, before pressing two small, quick kisses to each side of his mouth and pulling away.

The room was silent but for their panting.

"And you told me you didn't bite," Roxas laughed, remembering the day he'd first met Axel, in awe and slightly frightened. His breathing was heavy and rapid, his body begging for them to continue. The blonde rolled his head to the side to bury his nose in the neon orange pillow. _'Mmmm, Axel-smell.'_

"I don't bite," Axel pouted, nuzzling Roxas' yellow hair. "I nibble. Like a goldfish." He snapped jokingly at the boy's ear, growling.

They lay together on the bed, Axel still resting lightly above Roxas, neither willing to end the moment by moving. Roxas felt the redhead's heartbeat against his own, still thumping rapidly with excitement.

Axel grinned suggestively. "So, you wanna keep goi--"

"Oh ho ho, what do we have here?"

The two froze.

Demyx was still standing in the doorway, grinning over his shoulder to someone behind him. "Look at 'em go! God, Zex, you shoulda seen this _hickey_ on Ax's neck the other day. It was this big!" the mohawked man exclaimed, holding his fingers a few inches apart. "Lemme tell ya, this Roxas kid has got some powerful forces of suction."

Roxas sat straight up, his head colliding forcefully with Axel's. He pushed the redhead off of him and did his best to straighten out his clothes and cover the multiple hickeys that dotted his neck. Axel smiled sheepishly.

"Aw, don't stop now," Demyx whined as he walked into the dorm room and sat on his bed. "Man, our timing just sucks, Zex. If we'd waited a few more minutes, we coulda walked in on something _much_ more interesting."

Zexion glanced over at Axel and Roxas; the blonde ignored him and continued to pull his collar up around his neck, while Axel grinned and waved. He raised his eyebrows. "Then I'd say our timing was just perfect," Zexion muttered, brushing a stray piece of dark silvery hair from his eyes and crossing his legs.

"Oh, psssh." Demyx waved Zexion off and grinned at Axel. "So, this is y'all's… three week anniversary?" the blonde asked Axel, peering at the calendar that was taped to their wall.

"Four," Axel and Roxas said in unison.

"Four weeks… four weeks! Time just flies, doesn't it?" Demyx gave them a lopsided smile. "And have you two, uh… 'done the dirty deed' yet?"

"No." Roxas' face was devoid of expression.

"It's dirty?" Axel asked, looking confused.

"Aw," Demyx sighed, looking sad. He leaned over to Zexion and whispered something in his ear, frowning.

Naturally, this piqued Axel's interest. "What was that, Demyx? You got something to say?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all," the mullet-man answered.

"You said something about me and Roxas. I heard it."

"No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Nuh-uh."

"Yeah-huh."

"No way."

"Yes way."

"No--"

"He said that he had a bet with Gippal that you two would fuck on or before your five week anniversary and he didn't want to lose because it would be fifty dollars down the drain!" Zexion shouted, cracking from the annoyingness of Demyx and Axel's argument. The silver headed man shifted uncomfortably under the stares he was getting, crossing and uncrossing his arms.

Demyx looked betrayed. "Zex! I can't believe you would violate my trust like that! You just shattered the foundation of our relationship."

"We don't _have_ a relationship," Zexion reminded him.

"And now you deny our relationship!" Demyx shouted dramatically, pressing the back of his hand against his forehead in anguish. "My heart breaks."

Zexion stared at the blonde, his fine, dark eyebrow arched at his antics. "So… why aren't you in theater again?"

"Cause large crowds make him nervous," Axel supplied. He put a comforting arm around Roxas, who was still beet red and fidgety.

"Right," Zexion said sarcastically. "Band must be much easier, what with the stadiums filled with hundreds of people watching your every move and all. No problems there."

"I was in a Christmas play in elementary school," Demyx admitted, going red. "I was Rudolph. And… I got so nervous that I threw up on stage. Right onto the kid playing Santa Clause. And then into the audience. That experience kinda traumatized me. A lot."

Axel snickered and Roxas did his best to look sad and sympathetic. Zexion worked hard to contain a smile.

"I'll take that as a sufficient reason," Zexion chuckled softly. He looked over at Axel, his gunmetal grey hair covering one eye. "Well, we came here to practice lines, but since you two are… _busy_, we'll just have to go back to my room."

Demyx's face lit up like a Christmas tree. As Zexion turned his back on the other three to pick up his bag, Demyx flapped his arms excitedly and began mouthing 'OH MY GOD HIS_ ROOM_' over and over again.

The mulleted blonde followed Zexion eagerly out the door, waving goodbye to the couple sitting on Axel's bed. "Have fun, you two! But not too much f-- what am I saying? Screw sometime within the next week! I want that fifty dollars."

"Thanks, Dem. Your selfless concern brings tears to my eyes," Axel sarcastically.

The blonde and the redhead exchanged glances as the door snapped shut.

"So… you wanna--"

"No, the moment is ruined," Roxas said flatly, cutting him off. He sighed and folded his hands, resting them on his lap. "I can't believe we've been together for a whole four weeks now."

"Can't believe it in a good way or in a bad way?" Axel asked him concernedly.

"In a good way, definitely," Roxas said, smiling slightly. He poked the redhead affectionately in the stomach. "We need to do something special. How about tonight, around five? We'll--"

"I can't," Axel said quietly, running his fingers along the curve of the boy's jaw, enjoying the feeling. "Practice. We have the Yensid Showcase coming up soon, so Cavanaugh is really going to be cracking down. That means overtime, Rox."

"But you guys already practice all the time!" he blonde exploded. "I only get to see you like…" Roxas went silent as he tried to remember how many times he and Axel went out each week.

"Almost every other day," the redhead reminded him with a snicker. "But I'm glad you don't feel like that's enough."

"It isn't enough." He softened at the guilty look on Axel's face. "But I understand. You're in a big, important university band, and you're the drum captain, so you have to sacrifice a lot of your time-- _our_ time-- to make everything flawless. I know. Doesn't help that we're so freaking far apart."

"I'll see you tomorrow," the redhead offered. "And I'll call you tonight. I will fill your inbox with dozens of pointless emails. It'll be just like I'm there!"

"Not really," Roxas said lightly, looking up at the drummer from under thick lashes, his eyes alluring. "No warm body to touch, no hot mouth to kiss, no fiery hair to play with," he teased, leaning close to Axel's ear as he whispered, his breath tickling the older man.

"We've got time now," Axel mumbled urgently, pulling the blonde up against him. "We could--"

"Nope, I've got to go," Roxas grinned, suddenly pushing himself off of the redhead and collecting his things. "Actually, I should have left five minutes ago."

"You tease! You did that on purpose, you cruel, cruel boy," Axel smirked, standing and wrapping his arms around Roxas. "I never suspected that you could be so heartless."

"Oh, I think you'll get over it," Roxas smiled, standing on tiptoe to kiss Axel carefully on the lips. "But I really do need to leave. Like now."

"Why?" Axel groaned as he followed him to the door.

"I promised to drive Sora over to Riku's house. He has a freaking _mansion_, did you know that?"

"Doesn't that kid have a car?" the redhead complained. He gave Roxas a sad, puppy-eyed look as he walked out the door, and a look that clearly said, 'You please stay? Me love you long time'.

Roxas ignored it. "Yes, but it's a piece of shit and it broke down _again_. Damn Chevy."

"So…" Riku said awkwardly. He sat on the edge of the cream colored couch in his den, his hands resting on his knees. He glanced around the room, looking everywhere _except _at Sora.

"So…" Sora agreed, staring at the floor. He made a low humming noise as he scratched at his nose.

"We could… practice music?" Riku suggested tentatively, unsure of what the brunette wanted to do now that he'd come over. The awkward silence that filled the spaces in their conversation for the last five minutes made Riku painfully aware of how little he really knew about Sora.

"Nah," Sora said, shaking his head. "We could… study?"

"Mmm, no." Riku pursed his lips and looked out the window. His eyes widened as he thought of something. "How about a horse ride?"

"Horse ride? You have a horse?" Sora asked quickly, paling. "I thought you were kidding!"

"Horses. Plural. I have horses," Riku clarified, standing up and waving for the younger boy to follow. He was actually starting to like this idea, the more he thought about it. "Come on, Sora."

Sora looked nervous. "But I've never--"

"I'll teach you," the silver haired boy said confidently, holding a gloved hand out for Sora to take.

The cinnamon haired boy looked carefully at the senior's hand, as if in deep thought. He haltingly stuck out his own hand, finally placing it in Riku's. The older boy wrapped his fingers around the tanned hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Um, Riku?" Sora asked hesitantly as they left the house behind and slowly headed toward the barn behind Riku's stately home. Sora could smell the sweet muskiness of hay and cut grass, as well as that characteristic horse-smell. And manure.

"Mmhmm?" Riku acknowledged, pulling Sora happily toward the freshly painted barn. It was the bright red of cartoons and children's books; the massive front doors were opened, showing a line of stalls that stretched far back.

Sora mumbled something under his breath.

"Can't hear you," Riku laughed, turning to face the boy beside him, his eyebrows arched amusedly.

"I said…" Sora took a deep breath then looked right into Riku's aqua eyes. "I'm scared of horses."

"You're what?" The senior laughed, his mouth curved into an open-mouthed smile. "Horse-a-phobia? Sora, I promise they won't eat you--"

"That's not what I'm scared about! And it's called equinophobia." Sora's eyes widened as he heard a blood-curdling whinny from inside the stable. He shuddered. "They're evil."

"They're _horses_. What the hell are they going to do-- neigh you to death?"

"Oh!" Sora shouted, looking indignant. "Let me count the ways. One, trampling. Two, biting. Three, bucking. Four, rabies--"

"My horses do not have rabies," Riku said flatly. He coaxed Sora to the barn entrance. "You don't need to worry, all of them are good-tempered. And even if something did happen, I wouldn't let you get hurt," the older teen said matter-of-factly.

Sora squeezed tightly on Riku's hand. A small, not-insanely-consumed-by-horse-fear part of him squealed at the fact that he had been holding Riku's hand for at least four minutes. But the rest of him was freaking out.

"You can pick which one you want to ride," Riku offered softly, gently tugging the boy into the cool darkness of the stable.

Sora clung to the older boy at first, too frightened to approach any of the massive beasts. A few of the horses stuck their long necks out of their stalls and tried to sniff him, causing a spastic convulsion on Sora's part. With Riku next to him and the horses held at bay by their stall doors, the brunette eventually relaxed. He breathed in the heavy scent of the barn, the sickly sweetness of alfalfa and hay as well as the underlying odor of sweat and animal.

Sora slowly walked down the central aisle of the barn, carefully judging each horse. He stopped at one of the last stables, his eyes drawn to a magnificent black horse that paced lazily in his stall.

"Which one is that?" he asked breathlessly. Sora was tempted to touch the animal's wavy black mane, a flowing mass that sheathed its neck and covered half of its face. And he would have, if he didn't value keeping his hand, that is.

"That would be Paopu," Riku smiled. Sure enough, the young stallion was entirely black, with the exception of a tiny white star on the tip of his nose. "He's a Friesian, one of my favourites. He's also kind of quirky, I can tell you'd like him," he added, ruffling Sora's hair laughingly.

"Quirky?" Sora asked. He took an unsure step closer to the Friesian, drawn in. He barely heard Riku leave or return, he was so engrossed in watching Paopu just stand there.

"Watch," Riku instructed him. The silver haired teen pulled a large cut of watermelon out from behind his back, much to Paopu's delight. The stallion whinnied and reached his long neck over the stall door, flapping his lips at the fruit.

Sora laughed, but stopped when Riku unexpectedly tossed the chunk of watermelon to him.

"You hold on to that. I'm going to let Paopu out."

Sora didn't have time to argue. Riku swiftly unlatched the door and held onto the young horse's harness, leading him out. Sora watched in fascination as the pale haired boy rubbed Paopu's nose affectionately, earning him a whinny of happiness.

"Alright, Sora. This is it. You just hold that watermelon out, okay? Paopu won't bite, and he won't hurt you. Trust me."

Sora opened his mouth, but shut it quickly. He nodded quickly, gulping as Riku and the horse approached. He held the fruit out in his hands like an offering, flinching as Paopu bit savagely into the melon, tiny flecks of juice splattering on Sora.

'_That could be me,'_ he thought, horrified, as he watched the horse slurping up the watermelon chunks.

Paopu finished with the melon and took a large bite out of the rind, much to Sora's astonishment. The brunette looked anxiously to Riku to make sure that everything was okay, and was pleased to see that the senior's unabashed grin. Paopu ate the entire piece of watermelon, rind and all, and then began to nuzzle and lap at Sora's hands for any leftovers.

The brunette squirmed at the ticklish whiskers brushing against his hands before finally pulling away and wiping them off on his pants. He followed Riku as he led Paopu away, tied him up, and then ventured into a dimly lit room on the opposite wall. Sora was hit by the overpoweringly sweet smell of leather as soon as he entered the room.

"Whew. That is one strong smell," Sora laughed, fanning in front of his face. "Not bad, just… everywhere."

"Yup," Riku agreed shortly, grabbing a large, western saddle and hauling it back out to the barn aisle. Sora followed obediently, watching and silently taking notes as Riku fastened the saddle onto the Friesian's back. The senior finished by sliding a bit into Paopu's mouth and looping the reins over the saddle horn.

"Ready?"

"Ready for what?" Sora asked dumbly.

"The horse ride," Riku said slowly, unable to control the smile creeping onto his face. "And don't even tell me you're scared now, 'cause you just let him eat right out of your hands-- which, let me point out, you still have. And no missing fingers, either."

"I don't know," Sora said uncertainly. "It's just… I've never ridden a horse before. Well, there was that one time with the pony at that birthday party, but he was insane, and that's why I'm scarred for life."

"I'll be with you the entire time," Riku assured him. He pressed his hand against the small of Sora's back, gently pushing him toward Paopu's left side. "You can do it, and it'll be fun. Trust me?" Riku asked softly, looking hopeful.

Sora took a deep, calming breath and let Riku help hoist him onto the horse's back. He floundered in the saddle for a minute, trying to get used to the uncomfortable seat. Paopu's back seemed impossibly wide, causing the muscles of his inner thighs to ache immediately.

Riku pushed his foot through the stirrup and swung onto the horse's back, careful to avoid hitting Sora. He settled down in front of the brunette, the two of them shifting uncomfortably in the saddle that was only made for one. Sora gingerly placed his hands on the older boy's hips, not quite certain of what he was supposed to hold onto.

Riku held the reins in one hand, reaching to his side with the other to grasp at Sora's hands. He wordlessly wrapped the boy's hands around his waist before tapping Paopu's sides lightly with his heels to get them going.

Sora reddened as the jolting movements of the Friesian's walk made him slide flush against Riku's back. He could feel the silver headed boy's muscles moving as he swayed in time with Paopu's movements. Sora let his fingers play lightly over Riku's stomach, just delicately enough to go unnoticed, basking in the smell of the older teen as he let his chin rest on the warm shoulder in front of him.

Riku urged Paopu on, taking him from a walk into a trot, and then into a canter. Sora gripped Riku's shirt as they went faster, winding his arms around the older teen's torso to keep from falling off. The brunet buried his head in Riku's shoulder and laughed, the older boy's silvery hair tickling his neck as it was blown by the wind.

Riku, encouraged by the heated laughter next to his ear, urged Paopu into a full out gallop, tearing around the spacious pasture at breakneck speed. Sora clenched to the older teen, his body hot against Riku's back. Wind stung their eyes, tugged at their hair. Sora kept his face against Riku's nape, the windblown hair swirling furiously around him. He laughed joyously, though it couldn't be heard over the roaring wind they were making.

Gradually, Riku slowed the horse. Paopu snorted and shook his long mane out, happily prancing back to the barn, the feathered hair around his hooves flowing with each step.

Back in the cool shade of the stables, the two dismounted. Sora wobbled shakily, still adjusting from the change. His legs ached, and muscles he didn't even know he had were burning. Riku was busy unbuckling Paopu and refilling his water bucket. He walked the horse back into his stall, where he noisily slurped at the lukewarm water.

"So…" Riku grinned.

"So?" Sora asked with a giddy giggle.

Riku crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. "Are you still afraid of horses?"

"Eh, not so much. Or at least not this one," he replied, patting Paopu on his forehead. The horse swiped his head at the brown haired boy, wiping the side of his face along Sora's shirt. It left a trail of horse sweat and black hair and a touch of fine dirt. "Gee, thanks." He sniffed at the sweat covered fabric. "Mmmm, horsey smell."

"I like horsey smell," Riku smirked. "But I think I like Sora smell better, so let's get out of here before you're too badly contaminated."

"Aw, and we were just starting to bond," Sora said with mock sadness, pressing his cheek against Paopu's larger, fuzzy black one. It was a Kodak moment, with the horse's doleful black eyes and Sora's beautiful blues looking up at Riku sadly. Paopu took that moment to sneeze, a mist of horse slobber and snot flying all over the brunette. "Oh, my, _God_, Riku! Get it off, get it off, get it off!" he screamed amid Riku's uncontrollable laughter, wiping his hands all over his face and down his body. He ran towards Riku with outstretched arms. "I know! Let's hug it off!"

"If you think I'm going to let you touch me when you're like that, you're horribly mistaken," the older boy laughed, jogging backwards to avoid Sora's advances.

"I don't recall ever saying I wanted your permission," Sora said deviously, rubbing his sticky, wet hands together. He tilted his head to the side, his disheveled chocolate hair and his feral smile making him look wild.

Riku smirked confidently. He took off in a sprint towards the woods, looking back over his shoulder and sending Sora a clearly challenging look. _'Come and get me.'_

Sora laughed as he followed.

"Again, from set eighteen," Zack bellowed through a megaphone.

The band collectively groaned as they trudged back to their places. Evening was setting in, turning the cloudy sky into a watercolor of neon oranges and pastel purples. October' cool breezes were finally beginning to replace the stagnant heat that had plagued their earlier practices.

Gippal angrily slapped at his neck, cursing lowly about mosquitoes. "We've been at this for hours. I want to go to bed now," he complained to the redhead, his one eye glaring.

"He can't keep us out here for much longer," Axel reasoned as he flailed his arms at a persistent cloud of gnats that was following him around the field. "I mean, he can't keep us out here all night, can he?" he laughed. Worry flashed across his face. "Wait-- he really _can't_ keep us out here all night, right? There's a rule against it, isn't there? I have an eight o'clock class tomorrow."

Gippal shrugged and grimaced as they prepared to march the last section of the performance again, a song called Dreams of Desire. It was one of Axel's favourites-- or at least it _had_ been, until he was forced to play it so many times that it made him physically ill to think about it.

He decided to focus on his footwork and his technique, as the song itself was already so well practiced that he could play it without a second thought. Axel noted, from the corner of his eye, that Nida was getting sloppy with his fundamentals; he would have to yell at him later. They finished the song in a crescendo, the players raising their instruments as they held out the last note, the drumline leaning back as they hammered out the last beats.

The silence afterward was deafening.

No one moved, not even Baralai, who still stood rigidly atop his conducting podium, or Zack, or any of the other drum majors. Mr. Cavanaugh paced down the sideline in front of them, scrupulously scanning the band as he rubbed his bearded chin with one hand. "That's all for tonight," he bellowed, finally satisfied. "I expect you to improve by tomorrow's practice." With that, he left the field, trusting Baralai and the section leaders to make sure everything was put away and locked up.

"I could just die," Cloud moaned as he joined up with Axel and Gippal, walking in stride with them back toward the band room. He cast a furtive glance toward Leon, who was examining his trumpet as he walked.

"Ignore him," Axel advised the blonde, knowing how upset Cloud was over how Leon maintained his cold attitude even after what had happened in the library. The redhead put his arm over the blonde trombonist's shoulders in what he hoped was a comforting way.

"Yeah, ignore him," Gippal agreed. "You know, since he seems to be doing a pretty good job of ignoring _you_ already."

Axel shot a glare at Gippal from behind Cloud's head. "You asshole," he mouthed.

"What? It's the truth," Gippal defended himself. "If Cloud wants to lie to himself and think that Leon, AKA 'The-Cold-Hearted-Ice-Bastard', will ever change his bastardy ways, then he can do it. But as a friend, I am obligated to tell him the harsh truth."

"But you don't have to be so mean about it," Cloud mumbled. "I like my truth slightly sugar-coated."

"Yeah, yeah, well you-- hey, Axel, isn't that your kid over there?" Gippal pointed toward the stands, where a small, sparse group of people-- college students and locals, mostly-- had gathered to watch them practice. Axel picked out a small blonde who was leaning over the metal railing of the stands. He grinned at Gippal and Cloud before awkwardly jogging over to the concrete stands, his tenor still on its carrier. He waited at the bottom of the stairs for Roxas to meet him.

"Hey, you didn't tell me you were coming!" Axel exclaimed as the younger boy jumped down the last few steps.

"It was a surprise," Roxas blushed. He fell into step next to Axel as they resumed his walk back to the band room. "I watched you guys practice-- not all of it, cause you guys must have been out there for forever, but I saw a lot. I had no idea," he smiled, looking up at the redhead. "I had no idea you were _that_ good."

"Hell yeah, Roxas. We're the shit." Axel laughed hoarsely, his throat sore from screaming at idiot percussionists and freshmen for the last three hours.

"N-no," Roxas stuttered, looking awestruck. "You guys are _amazing_. It's like watching professionals when you march. And everyone's in tune, and there's balance, and no one is ever out of step!" He paused to let Axel soak that up; Roxas knew that the older man loved compliments, especially when it came to music. The blonde touched him lightly on the arm. "_You_ are amazing."

"Aw, _you're_ amazing, Rox!" Axel said giddily, giving into the urge and pulling the blonde up against him. Roxas cringed as he was jarred against Axel's tenor during the hug, drumsticks and metal poking into him.

"You're welcome," Roxas gasped, having trouble breathing. He sighed when the redhead finally let go. "Hurry up and put that beast away," he ordered, pointing at the tenor drum as they walked into the band room. Band people milled everywhere in the room, busily putting away instruments and hauling things back from the field.

Roxas stopped and stared at the incident unfolding on the floor in front of him.

"Say it! Say it!" Zack had Gippal pinned to the floor, his elbow in the blonde's ribs. Gippal struggled furiously, biting and cursing at the man on top of him. He wrapped a leg around the dark haired man and wiggled desperately in an attempt to roll him over.

And if anyone else in the room was shocked by this display, they did a very good job of hiding it. No one even acknowledged the two wresting in the middle of the floor, except to step over them.

"Get off of me, you fucking insane freak," Gippal growled. He swung his head up and forward, trying to head-butt the man on top of him.

"Not until you say it!"

Gippal clenched his jaw and mumbled something.

"Louder," Zack commanded, a wide smile fixed in place.

"Fine! I'm a happy hooker!" Gippal shouted, going red. A few people in the vicinity stopped to stare and snicker, but that was it.

"And?" Zack asked gleefully.

Gippal sighed but looked resigned. "And… I like to kiss all the boys." He blushed even darker as he mumbled the last part.

Zack laughed as he stood up and held a hand out to the blonde, pulling him to his feet as well. Upon standing, Gippal promptly punched the man.

"So…" Roxas started as he and Axel left the building, wandering aimlessly around outside. The sun was nearly done setting. "What was that all about?"

"Oh, Gippal and Zack? That's nothing. Just Zack being… himself. Which is insane."

"Gee, I couldn't tell," Roxas laughed sarcastically.

"There's a rule here; if you leave anything personal of yours on the football field-- like a flipfolder or music or shoes or something-- and someone else picks it up, they can either force you say something stupid, or they can make you stand and sing in front of the whole band to get it back."

Roxas laughed at the insane logic. As his laughter died down into the occasional chuckle or amused scoff, he realized how far they'd wandered.

"Um, where are we?" Roxas asked, venturing away from the redhead to explore the area. He picked through the tall grass that rose about his waist, unafraid of what could be lurking below. The field rippled like water under the breeze, the fine green tips tickling his arms. Roxas could hear the redhead rustling behind him.

Eventually, the tall grasses became sparse, and a lush carpet of deep green replaced them. Further beyond that, sand.

"I had no idea that Radiant Garden was this close to the ocean," Roxas muttered dumbly.

"Yep. That's part of the… allure," Axel said slowly.

The sun had gone down and the moon had come up, making the sea a shining black and the sand a silvery white. Axel watched as Roxas stared emptily out at the sea, his face blank.

"I feel like nothing sometimes," the blonde said quietly, frowning gently as he faced the ocean. Large bodies of water always had a way of making him feel insignificant.

"I know." Axel kicked off his shoes and pulled off his socks.

"I feel like I might not even exist, you know? Like that crazy philosophy stuff."

"I know," Axel said again, bending over to roll up his pants until they were up to his knees. "I feel the exact same way sometimes. But you know what?"

"What?"

"I know I exist because you exist. We're meant to be. It's destiny." And he said it so confidently.

"That's corny. And I don't believe in hopelessly romantic stuff like that," Roxas whispered, the shadow of a smile still at his lips even though his voice was hard. He shuffled out of his shoes and socks as well, curling his toes and feeling the grainy sand.

"Let me change your mind," Axel whispered back. He slipped one arms around Roxas' waist and used his other hand to cup the blonde's chin. The redhead bent over, pressing his face into the younger boy's neck and smiling against the soft skin.

Roxas placed his hand on the back of Axel's neck, massaging it gently.

The redhead leaned into the touch, his throat rumbling. Axel looked at the water, and then grinned at Roxas, a playful, impish glint his viridian eyes. "You wanna--"

"Yes," Roxas interrupted, quickly grabbing Axel's hand and running with him into the surf. They gasped at the unexpected cold of the seawater, clinging to each other as the tide rushed past their legs, threatening to topple them. The blonde marveled at how dark the night made Axel's hair, at how the shadows shaped his thin, angular face.

Roxas laughed nervously, holding on to the taller man's more stable form. "I feel like an idiot right now."

"Yeah, you didn't even roll up your pants," Axel chuckled, looking down to the blonde's now-soaked jeans. "Not bright at all."

"You weren't supposed to agree."

"I'm sorry," Axel said, not sounding sorry at all and struggling to keep a straight face.

"Yeah? I think yo--"

Roxas was cut off as a particularly large wave knocked the two over, leaving them on hands and knees in the shallow water. The two sputtered from the unexpected inhalation of saltwater. Axel flipped his long hair back, wringing it out as he crawled onto the beach. Roxas sat down next to him in the sand, looking smug.

"A lot of good rolling your pants up did you."

"Shut up, _Roxie_."

**And the song I'm thinking of for the part where they're practicing is Dreams of Desire by the 1990 Phantom Regiment. If you want to listen, it's on here:**

**http / www . brentbutler . com / cgi / mp3 . pl**

**Without the spaces, of course. And I know it's a drum corps, not a marching band, but pretend along with me, kay? Cause I love the drum and trumpet parts in it. And I'll probably end up mentioning Songs from the Eternal City in here too, cause it rocks as well.**

**To those who are about to review… I salute you! Now press the button. **


	9. A Journey to Sideland

**When I said that updates would be slower, I did NOT mean this much slower. Honestly… this chapter was much more problematic than I'd ever dreamed it would be, and I'm not too happy with it. But dammit, I spent freaking **_**weeks**_** doing it so it'll get posted! **

**And thanks for the reviews! Whenever I started to lose focus/get lazy, I'd read those and be ready to write more. (I've been hit-and-miss about replying though, and for that I am sorry. Yarg.)**

"Do I contradict myself?

Very well then I contradict myself.

(I am large, I contain multitudes.)"

---Walt Whitman

Demyx grinned as they finished the rehearsing the last section of Zexion's script. "Hey, that wasn't bad, Zexy. You sound like a real Georgia native."

"You say that like it's supposed to be a good thing," Zexion mumbled. He was taken aback when the blonde slapped him in the back of the head with the thick script a moment later.

"It _is_ a good thing," Demyx said with a grin. He punched the man lightly on the arm, laughing. "I'm so proud! Jeez Louise, I could take you back down home and no one'd ever know you weren't from around there. You do a good job of picking up accents, y'know-- when you're not being all moody and quiet," he giggled.

"Thank you," Zexion said awkwardly, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the headboard of his bed.

Demyx crawled up from the end of the bed, resting against the headboard as well. He could feel the fabric of Zexion's long sleeved shirt rub against his bare arm as the older man shifted, propping pillows up behind him.

Demyx loved being in Zexion's room. For one thing, the theater major had been one of the lucky few to obtain his own room; it was slightly smaller than most dorms, but the privacy it afforded was well worth it. Every inch of wall was plastered with magazine cut outs and posters, most from old movies and plays, some of famous actors. The standard fluorescent lights had been replaced with a few small, strategically placed lamps which offered Zexion's favourite form of lighting-- minimal to none. The comfy room was also filled with a faint scent that Demyx had come to associate with the quiet man-- something like a mixture vanilla and soap, but it was never overpowering enough to bother him. And, best of all… he had a fish tank.

The first forty-five minutes of their first practice session had been spent with Demyx crouched in front of the tank, tapping at the glass and making fish noises in an attempt to communicate with the tiny animals.

He'd also learned on that first visit that Zexion didn't bother to name any of his fish. Startled by this, the blonde had made it his personal task to name each one of the little swimmers and make sure that Zexion memorized their names. After all, how traumatizing would it be to grow up without a name?

"I think Buttercup is hungry," the mulleted man observed, watching as a white and yellow guppy swam in circles near the surface.

"Buttercup? Is that the red one?" the grey headed man asked confusedly, his one visible eye squinting.

"No! That's Scarlett O'Fisha, duh. She's such a drama queen," the blonde muttered as the red fish ran into a rock. "Not too bright, either."

"A real Southern belle, hm?" Zexion asked with a smirk. "Sounds _familiar_," he said teased, giving Demyx a slight nudge. He smiled-- it was barely there, but there nonetheless.

"Zexy! How dare you! What are you insinuating?" Demyx laughed, gently shoving the older man. "Do you remember what I named that little silver tetra?"

"Um…"

"He's Zexy Jr. We can call him ZJ!"

"I'm honored," Zexion muttered sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "I'll be sure to remember that when I'm flushing him down the toilet in a few years."

"Oh God, no! Don't say that in front of him!" Demyx shrieked, pointing at the tank and nudging the boy next to him. "He's _sensitive_," he whispered behind his hand, turning his head so ZJ wouldn't be able to read his lips. "Easily upset. Don't say stuff like that around him, who knows what kind of adverse effect it could have."

Zexion gave him a look, but clearly decided this was one battle that wasn't worth fighting. He shrugged it off and the two went back to sitting in comfortable silence. Or at least it was comfortable for Zexion; Demyx looked like he was ready to pop, ready to burst out with a hundred new pointless questions, crazy ideas, and stupid observations.

Sure enough… "Do you think the fish ever miss their parents?"

"No."

"Really? That's depressing. Do you think they ever try to escape?"

"No."

"Well, I bet they do… Do you think there's an undergroun' fish-city in the sewers where living fish who were mistakenly flushed congregate to rebuild their lives?"

Wait for it. "No."

"Oh." Demyx slid down a little on the bed so he could lay his head on one of the oversized black pillows. He watched Zexion's thin chest as it rose and fell rhythmically. "Do you think fish ever fall in love?"

"I don't know. I'm not a fish." He leaned his head to the side and looked at Demyx through a half-lidded eye. "Why do you ask?"

"I just wonder sometimes. The secret lives of fishes, ya know? All the stuff they must think…"

"Yeah, I'm sure it's just fascinating-- 'Bubbles, bubbles, water, water, FOOD, bubbles, water, water'-- umph!" Zexion curled up on his side as Demyx clambered up on top of him, hitting him over the head with a squishy beaded pillow.

"Take that, fish-hater! I'll defend the honor of my watery brethren from your heinous lies!"

"You're insane," Zexion gasped, flailing his arms weakly at the larger boy sitting atop him. "If I hated fish, then I wouldn't own them, genius. Now stop smothering me with my own pillow."

"Hm. I do suppose you're right." Demyx continued to straddle the older boy's chest, looking down at him with a wide smile. He leaned forward a little.

"And I do suppose that this was all just an excuse to climb on top of me," Zexion said knowingly, crossing his thin arms as he stared up at the blonde, trying not to smile. He felt Demyx squeeze his chest a little with his legs, just enough to let him know that he meant business.

"Maaaybe."

"'Maybe', my ass. You planned that."

"Maaaybe."

"Stop that. And get off of me."

"Maaaybe I will. And maaaybe I won't."

Zexion turned his head to the side moodily, letting the blue-grey hair spill over his face. He watched Demyx from the corner of his eye, his breath hitching the slightest bit as the blonde caught him staring. Wisps of sandy hair fell in front of Demyx's eyes as he tilted his head down to look Zexion full in the face.

"You've got beautiful eyes," he said softly, his voice low and sincere. He chuckled. "Though I never get to see 'em both at the same time."

"Hm," Zexion acknowledged, feeling pleased yet bashful. He was unused to someone being so complimentary… sure, he teased Demyx for his accent and bizarre questions, but when it came down to it, he actually enjoyed listening to what the colorful mellophonist had to say. "Continue."

"And your voice is great, especially when you've got an accent like mine," the blonde laughed. "And your hair is gorgeous," he complimented, stroking the bluish grey strands from root to darkened tip. "And your lips are beautiful," he sighed, holding out the last word for a few seconds.

"All of that, huh?" Zexion asked nervously, fidgeting under such close examination. He closed his eyes for a moment as Demyx gently cupped his chin, a calloused thumb brushing against his bottom lip. Zexion moved his small, thin hands onto the blonde's thighs, letting them rest lightly on the soft denim.

"All that and more. All that and a bag of chips," the blonde laughed. "You remind me of vanilla ice cream, y'know? At first you think, 'Oh, it's just plain ol' vanilla. It's nice, but it's nothing special', right? But then you take a bite, and you really taste it, and it's so… perfect. It ain't flashy, it isn't in-your-face, but it's exactly what you need. Just delicate flavor, simple and clean. And you find out that even though it doesn't _look_ like it's got a lot going on, vanilla is really one of the most interesting and flavorful of all the ice creams. It's sweet and it's got its own personality and it's reliable. Always. And it's kinda hot."

"… You're comparing me to frozen dairy--"

"I know that!" Demyx broke out into a series of broken, exasperated laughs. "I just… I can't explain it. I'm trying here, okay?"

Zexion bit the inside of his lip and reluctantly smiled. "Explanations can be overrated."

"Oh?" the blonde asked with a grin. He moved his hands up to the collar of the shirt around Zexion's neck. Demyx tugged weakly at the fabric, urging the older boy to sit up a little.

Zexion obliged the boy straddled across him and leaned forward, propping himself up on bended elbows as the blonde slid back to sit on his stomach. His dark hair fell haphazardly over one side of his face, partially hiding his underused smile.

Demyx leaned over and gently pressed his forehead against the older man's. He opened his mouth to speak but was promptly cut off by the grey haired boy. Zexion caught the blonde by surprise, taking his lips in a quick kiss. And then another. The third kiss was met with eager force by Demyx, who had just recovered from the initial astonishment. He clumsily pulled the older man closer and hungrily deepened the kiss, his tongue stroking Zexion's tentatively.

Zexion gradually slowed their pace with to a series of deliberate, soft kisses, ending the moment with one fleeting peck on Demyx's forehead. "… We need to get back to work now."

"You're a workaholic," the blonde pouted, the sad look on his face pulling at Zexion's heartstrings. "You've got the lines down, you've got the accent down… you're perfect! What's left to work on? Can't we just snuggle and suck face and stuff now?"

"Well, when you phrase it so beautifully," Zexion said sarcastically, giving into the needy Demyx. "I guess… we can always work on it later." He looked over to the blonde for approval, hoping that this was the right move.

The mulleted boy's face lit up. "Thanks, Zexy." Demyx proceeded to squish himself as close to the older man as possible, elbowing and poking him in the process. The two settled into an awkward but strangely comfortable embrace, their arms entwined and their noses nearly touching.

Demyx could feel their breath intermingling-- his own smelling a little like the coffee he'd had earlier, and Zexion's smelling like mint. It was unimaginably relaxing. He used the hand he had wrapped around the older man's back to play lazily with the dark strands of hair, simultaneously feeling Zexion tracing from his ear all the way down to his neck with painstakingly slow, ticklish caresses. The blonde laughed lowly, just loud enough for the other man to hear.

"I wish I could start every morning like this."

The quiet intimacy of the moment was interrupted by a repeated thunking from across the room. The two lifted their heads with groans to look at the fish tank, where the fish Scarlett continued swimming into the glass wall of the tank.

Demyx's eyes widened and he sat up with a start, throwing Zexion, who had been leaning precariously on one elbow near the edge of the bed, off balance and making him fall to the floor in an unhappy heap. The theater major glared angrily up through his curtain of hair at the young blonde when he stuck his head over the edge of the bed.

"Dude! Zexy! See? I _told_ you they tried to escape!"

"Oh dear."

Baralai looked forlornly at the vending machine, which had just denied him his Three Musketeers. The machine had stopped just a second before the candy bar fell, leaving it dangling from the second to last row from the bottom.

The olive skinned man let his forehead hit the glass with a muted thunk, eyeing the candy bar that was rightfully _his_ through the plexiglass. "Curse you, malfunctioning and misaligned spiral mechanism." He straightened up and looked down the hall as he heard a door open.

A familiar blonde stumbled out of his room and pulled the door shut behind him. Gippal busied himself with adjusting his pajamas and hair. He froze for a second when he spotted Baralai, then grinned and made his way over. Baralai was usually reclusive and private, keeping to himself in his dorm. It surprised the blonde to see him out of his building on his day off.

"Hey, Lai-Lai!"

"Don't call me that, _please_," Baralai sighed.

"Oh, whatever, you know you love it." Gippal smiled-- it faded when Baralai refused to smile back. "What's up? Why so sad, Lai?"

The bronze skinned man turned to stare at the machine, his hands placed on his hips in an expression of annoyance and all around grumpiness.

Gippal followed his gaze to the hanging candy bar stuck inside the machine. "Oh… yeah, E7. That one's a bitch. You have to jiggle the machine while it's going or else it gets caught like that. I learned the hard way."

Gippal bit his lip as he watched his drum major look at the machine with a frown. He didn't want Baralai to be sad; he and the older man had maintained a tentative yet developing friendship over the last few years. Baralai was one of those selfless, patient people that put others' needs before his own, always. Had it not been for the silvery haired man's extensive tutoring and tireless effort, Gippal would have failed at least two classes already… Okay, maybe it was more like five, but who was counting, right?

The blonde rubbed his chin for a second, thinking it over. He owed Baralai, definitely, but there was more to it. Gippal wanted the older man to be happy-- no, _he_ wanted to _make_ him happy. And if that meant getting him that candy bar, he was damn well going to do it.

Gippal knelt down in front of the machine.

Baralai looked alarmed. "Gippal, what are you doing? Have you not heard the horror stories about these machines? They can crush a man very easily, snap bones like they are toothpicks. You are putting life and limb-- mostly limb-- at danger here, and I could never forgive myself if you were killed or maimed, especially if it was over my candy."

Gippal, who by now had managed to cram his entire arm into the slot at the bottom of the vending machine, grunted in reply. He maneuvered his arm inside the machine, twisting it painfully so he could better reach the hanging candy at E7. His fingers just barely brushed it the first few times, making him curse vehemently in both English and Al Bhed. Finally, with a forceful reach, he was able to knock the chocolate bar hard enough to send it tumbling down. He grabbed it as he removed his arm and then handed it to Baralai.

"I think," the blonde panted, "that this belongs you." He grinned proudly at his accomplishment and put his hands on his hips, a little of his swagger already returning. Also, he was kind of dizzy. His swirled green eye widened with satisfaction as he watched a pleased smile slowly curve the olive man's lips.

Baralai turned the Three Musketeer over in his hands, a shy smile and pink drenched cheeks showing the feeling that his words couldn't fully express. "Thank you very much, Gippal. You… you did'nt have to do that." He looked up, his hazel eyes flicking over the younger man's face. "Well," he said with a slight cough, "I guess I should be going. One of the professors asked me to help with a presentation on--"

"Do you want to hang out for a while?"

"Excuse me?" Baralai asked almost breathlessly, looking a little surprised that he'd been interrupted.

"Do. You. Want. To. Hang. Out?" Gippal licked his lips nervously. He could feel the back of his neck growing hot, and the tips of his ears, too. "I mean, I know you're busy-- you're always busy-- but… maybe you could take a break? My room's right there," he said, pointing down the hall with his thumb, "and my roommate's out, so we could talk. And you could eat, and I've got some Sprite in the mini-fridge."

"Well, I…" He looked down at his hands a bit worriedly. "I have had a lot of work to do lately… It's, um, been a while since I last 'hung out'." He laughed shyly, his dark cheeks still tinged with a deep pink color.

"No time like the present, right?" Gippal grinned enthusiastically.

"I might not be very much fun," Baralai warned as he hesitantly accepted the blonde's offer and began walking slowly back toward his room.

"You're always fun, Lai-Lai," Gippal chuckled, nudging Baralai's shoulder when he rolled his eyes at the nickname. "If we get bored, we can play Twister. Rikku left it here when she came by the other day."

"Oh, I have heard of that game. Is it any fun?"

Gippal stopped a few feet from his door, a look of near mortification expressed on his face. "You've never played _Twister_? _Never_? Really?"

"Er… no, I have not. Is that bad?" Baralai asked, suddenly worried.

"Of course it's bad!" Gippal shouted, waving his arms alarmingly. He made himself stop when he saw how freaked out Baralai was getting. "I mean, it's not _bad_, it's just unusual. Like, everyone has played Twister at some point or another. It's like a childhood right of passage, like pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey, or that thing where you draw boxes on the ground in chalk and jump on them."

"Hopscotch?"

"Yeah, hopscotch. It's like hopscotch; everyone's done it."

"Not me," the drum major frowned, his forehead creasing lightly.

"Then it's up to me to show you," Gippal smiled, opening the door and gesturing for Baralai to go in first. "Hope you're flexible," he snickered, earning him a swift and unexpected flick on the back of his head from the older man. Baralai smiled sheepishly to let Gippal know he was kidding.

"Do not underestimate me, Gippal," he said warned with a straight face, "I'm _quite_ flexible. I'll have you know that I can touch the back of my head with my foot." Baralai looked like he was trying hard not to brag about this.

Gippal was agape. He closed the door behind him and went straight for the Twister box, ripping out the spinner and dotted mat urgently. "Now this I have to see! I never lose, Lai-Lai. I don't care how flexible and limber and supple you are," Gippal smirked, giving Baralai a lofty once-over as his competitive side took over. "I'm gonna kick your ass."

Cloud strummed his fingers against the table, the sound dulled by the gauzy white tablecloth. He set his chin in his hand and looked around the stylish restaurant, desperation and boredom showing clearly in his eyes. This was not going well.

"So…" he tried again; this was the fifth or sixth time the spiky blonde had attempted to get a conversation going between himself and the stoic brunette sitting across from him.

"So what?" Leon asked, swishing the pink colored wine in his glass lazily. His slate eyes bored into the younger man in front of him, his usual frown in place.

Cloud sighed and irritatedly tried to smooth out a crease in the tablecloth. All he wanted to do was go on a _date_. That's it. That's all. It wasn't that the random make-out sessions that had started after the first kiss were bad or anything… it's just that he wanted more. A nice date and dinner. Some pleasant conversation. Hell, maybe even a kind remark or two. Was that so much to ask? Was it?

Unfortunately, it seemed that it _was_ too much to ask of Leon.

"I have to go piss," Cloud said brusquely, pushing his chair back and standing stiffly. He waited for some kind of acknowledgement.

"For future reference," Leon said without looking up, "I don't need you to inform me of every instance when you have to act out on your bodily functions, urinary or otherwise."

"Fine, whatever," the blonde muttered as he walked toward the restrooms, not caring if Leon heard him or not. He crossed the crowded floor as fast as he could, very nearly shoving a few slow waiters and innocent bystanders to the floor in the process.

The bathroom was stark white. And it freaked Cloud out a little, to be honest. Hospitals weren't even this white. The blonde let out a sigh, thankful that the restroom was empty. He put his hands on the white marble of a sink and leaned forward, resting his head against the mirror and letting his eyes flutter closed.

Leon drove him _insane_. And not the 'Ha-ha-funny-like-Zack' kind of insane, either. More like the 'Ha-ha-homicidal' kind of insane. After that first kiss in the library Cloud had found himself the unwitting object of Leon's erratic libido. He'd been pounced on in hallways, dragged into broom closets, pulled into bathrooms, and yes-- even in the band room. But Leon would end their meetings as quickly as he started them, often just as things were getting heated. Cloud couldn't help be feel as though he was being led on.

Because when he wasn't up against Cloud in some dark corner, his mouth pressed against the younger man's, Leon completely ignored him. He acted like nothing even happened between them. It was mind-boggling. It was nonsensical. But most of all, it was _infuriating_. And it took a lot to infuriate mild-mannered, fairly quiet Cloud.

Cloud collected himself and left the restroom quietly, nervously straightening out his clothes and smoothing away wrinkles that weren't there. He settled back in at the table and folded his hands in front of him, the perfect model of patience and understanding.

"Have fun in the bathroom, Strife? What'd you do, take a nap? Have a smoke? You were only gone for, oh, the last ten minutes or so," Leon said sarcastically, his tone a hundred times more annoyed than his face let on. "I had to order for you. Hope you like spaghetti."

Cloud perked a little at this. "I love spaghetti. It's my favourite."

"Glad to hear it," the brunette said with a mock smile. The corners of his mouth then turned down slightly and he crossed his arms, leaning against the tall wooden back of his chair. They sat in silence, only looking up and acknowledging each other when the food arrived. Cloud stabbed happily at his plate of spaghetti, which he generously covered with parmesan cheese, while Leon cut sharply into his steak.

"Mmm, this is good," Cloud said in between mouthfuls, trying to make pleasant conversation.

"Mine tastes like shit," the brunette replied without missing a beat. "Apparently 'medium rare' means burnt on the outside and raw on the inside."

'_So much for that,'_ Cloud thought bitterly. Honestly, next to the torment of talking to Sora's dad, this was the most uncomfortable situation he'd been in for a long while. He unwittingly shuddered at the memory.

"Cold?" Leon asked from across the table, his eyebrows subtly raised. "Here."

Cloud started when he saw the senior begin to take off his own coat. "Oh, no. I'm okay, you can keep it," he said hurriedly. Inside he was dancing, because it seemed like Leon _did_, in fact, have a soul, and that he was capable of performing acts of basic human kindness.

"No, it's fine. Just take it." The brunette shoved the weathered leather jacket at him insistently.

"No, I don't want you to go through the trouble," the blonde said politely. His heart fluttered at the kind action, but he waved for Leon to put it back on.

"I already _went_ through the trouble of taking it off, so just take it," Leon ground out, losing his patience rapidly.

Cloud, too, was losing patience. "I said I wasn't cold. _You _keep it."

"You fucking _shivered_," Leon said lowly, shaking the black jacket at the blonde man. "Now take the damn jacket."

"I did _not_ shiver, and I don't _want_ the damn jacket," he growled. 'Happy-dancing-Cloud' took a backseat to 'frustrated-and-stubborn-and-pissed-Cloud'.

"I don't care if you want it, just take it."

"No. You just keep it."

"Take it," Leon ordered, his hand tightening around the fabric of the jacket. His icy eyes were narrowed and his voice was ominously low and quiet.

"Keep it," Cloud snarled, leaning forward aggressively. He felt like a barrel of gunpowder, ready to ignite at the slightest spark. His knuckles were white from the tension in his hands.

"Anyone ready for dessert?" a waitress with a cart interrupted, looking completely unfazed by the doom emanating from the two angry men at the table.

Cloud didn't know what it was that made him snap. Was it the waitress's totally uncalled for perkiness? Or was it the challengingly smug look on Leon's face? Whatever it was, it was the little shove that Cloud needed to flying over the edge.

Suppressed exasperation and resentment came to a head in the form of an all out brawl between the two men in the middle of the restaurant; tables were turned over, plates knocked to the floor, bystanders covered in wine from tipped glasses. Leon and Cloud raged like bulls against one another, succumbing only after being piled on by half a dozen burly patrons. It was not the ideal ending to a first date.

"Well, that went to shit pretty quickly," Leon keenly observed as they sat outside a few minutes later, after both of them had cooled off. They had been forcibly removed from the dining establishment (AKA, kicked to the curb) by no less than four waiters, among much shouting from an irate manager and indignant cries from customers. The two sat next to each other on the cracked sidewalk, leaning against the darkened bricks and stretching their legs out before them. The brunette pulled out a cigarette and lit it, its glowing tip showing like a firefly in the darkness around them.

"Sure did," Cloud agreed. He could feel the bruises already making his body sore. A number of small cuts, too, he could feel. Looking over at Leon made him feel a tad better; the older man hadn't come out of the fight completely unscathed. A rapidly darkening bruise on his jaw was the most visible sign of the damage Cloud had inflicted.

"Want one?" Leon asked politely, offering the pack of cigarettes over to the blonde.

"No thanks, I'm alright." He waved the brunette's hand away and smiled-- the action made him wince. He rubbed at his chin carefully. "Ow."

"Clocked you a pretty good one right there, didn't I?" Leon laughed hoarsely. He reached over and brushed a strand of spaghetti out of the blonde's hair. Their clothes were covered in stains from rolling around on a food covered floor.

"Don't get too proud. I've had worse," Cloud pouted, pulling his knees up and resting his arms over them.

Leon smiled at this, his steely grey eyes looking warm for once. "Oh, really?"

Cloud scoffed. "What, you don't believe me?"

"Not a chance, Strife. You're way too sensitive for that."

"Too sensi-- no way, I am not _sensitive_." Leon very subtly rolled his eyes at this, earning him a sharp flick from Cloud. "So… what do we do now?"

Leon put out his cigarette on the sidewalk and stood slowly, obviously feeling a few aches and pains himself. "We go home. Get up."

Cloud blushed as he rose, rubbing his neck sheepishly. "Look, Leon, I'm really sorry… I shouldn't have leapt across the table like that--"

"Don't forget the part where you tried to strangle me with the tablecloth," the senior reminded him as he crossed the parking lot with Cloud in tow. The dim yellowed glow of the streetlights provided just enough light for them to find the man's midnight black car.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that, too. And-- and I'll pay for the damages and stuff," the blonde said with a sigh. "It's my fault. And I'm sorry the manager bitched you out for it."

Leon arched one dark eyebrow but said nothing. He gestured for the younger man to get in the car before going in himself. "I'll pay it, Strife," he mumbled with a sigh. "Don't kid yourself; we both know you couldn't afford to anyway." He smirked and glanced at the blonde.

Cloud crossed his arms and settled back into the leather seat, a pronounced frown visible even in the dim light. "Rich bastard." He didn't meet Leon's eyes, too unnerved by the way those smoky greys always seemed unreadable despite their intensity. "Thanks."

---+---+---+---

As soon as they entered Leon's room, Cloud was pinned against the wall and held in place with a deep kiss.

The blonde blinked repeatedly; it wasn't the fact that Leon was kissing him that surprised him—it was that he was being _gentle_ about it. The older man's lips were firm but considerate, slowly and tenderly caressing his own.

"I don't mean to sound ungrateful," Cloud gasped when they parted a few moments later, "but what brought on this change in… tact?" He threaded his fingers into the chestnut hair at the back of the older man's head and pulled, forcing Leon to look at the ceiling. Cloud sucked on the smooth skin of the man's exposed neck while waiting on an answer from him.

"Just… thought a new approach… might be nice," Leon said huskily, his hands working on unbuttoning Cloud's shirt while the younger man was still fixated on his neck. He ran his hands down the curves of the blonde's torso, finally resting at his hips. Cloud flinched at the touch. "Also, we should probably... take things easy, considering... the condition we're in," he chuckled lowly. Leon dipped his thumbs inside the younger man's waistband and winced as the blonde nipped a slight bruise on the side of his neck.

Cloud sighed and let go of the man's hair, moving both of his hands up against the brunette's chest. He shrugged off the unbuttoned shirt that had been clinging to his shoulders and then tugged at the hem of Leon's shirt, urging him to do the same.

Leon did; Cloud found himself slightly in awe. Where his own frame was leaner and his skin tanned a light gold, Leon's body was slightly broader and more muscular. In addition to the recent bruises from their fight, several long, thin scars spread over his shoulders and down his sides like angry, faded claw marks etched into his milky skin. They echoed the diagonal line across the upper bridge of Leon's nose, making Cloud wonder if and how the older man had incurred them all at the same time.

"Questions?" Leon asked hoarsely as he surveyed the way Cloud was looking from his face to his body. He frowned and kneaded the discarded shirt in his hands, looking uncomfortable.

"They can wait," Cloud said, smiling at the immediate change in Leon's carriage his words brought. The brunette threw the shirt to floor and smirked, his confidence completely rekindled.

Cloud walked past Leon and toward the bed, turning his head and upper body so he never took his eyes away from the other man's face. "The questions can wait," he restated, nodding. The come-hither look in those luminous blue eyes matched the intensity of Leon's. "But I can't," he continued, placing a hand at the base of Leon's neck and pulling him back onto the neatly made bed with him.

Leon arched an eyebrow as he settled on top of the younger man and worked on unfastening his pants. "Have you been waiting for this long?" he asked amiably as he tugged the last of the blonde's clothing away.

"That's a rhetorical question, right?" Cloud replied sarcastically. Leon barely managed a moment of rough laughter before being cut-off by an aggressive kiss from the blonde. "No more talking," he muttered lustily. "We had plenty of time for that at dinner, and you wasted it. Now kiss me."

Leon smirked against Cloud's lips before deftly capturing them with his own, clearly having no qualms about assenting to the blonde's demands.

**It ends! Thank God, right?**

**Review! I'm too lazy to even attempt to put something witty here.** **(Ha ha, right? Am I ever witty?)**


	10. Crimson Dream

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed (especially those I didn't get a chance to reply to-- sorry!) and EXTRA thanks to my brand new beta, combo-bass! She be awesomeness incarnate. And thanks to her, your eyes don't have to bleed from typos anymore. Yay!**

**So, this chapter and last chapter are supposed to run kind of parallel to each other; it's only one day, just with a bunch of different viewpoints. And uh… a limey, lemony thing lies ahead. It's my first try at anything sexy, so be kind about it, please? Kind but honest. And enjoy!**

"Let the rain kiss you

Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops

Let the rain sing you a lullaby..."

---Langston Hughes

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"_Watch the moon rise tonight _

_The ocean looms past bonfires alight _

_I am a stranger in this place _

_And when I see you, I can't turn away…"_

Roxas woke slowly, his eyes fluttering open then snapping shut as the yellowed morning light stung his eyes.

"_Under this beach lie pirate bones _

_We stand above them, at long last alone _

_There's something different in your heart _

_You're not afraid of the darkness within us all…"_.

The blonde boy turned his head to glare angrily at Demyx's stereo, which was apparently programmed to use the mulleted man's music as an alarm. Roxas groaned and rubbed his face.

"_And we kiss, in the Santa Carla twilight _

_On the beach, under a Santa Carla moon _

_I am lost, but I've found you in my arms _

_And my heart is blacker than the dark ocean…"_

Roxas stretched his arms languidly above his head, arching his back and squinting against the light that fell haphazardly through the crooked blinds of the window. He wriggled around on the bed for a moment longer before kicking away the orange covers and sitting up. He rubbed slowly down his bare arms and stomach, feeling dried sand flaking off at the contact; he ran a hand over the sheets and felt the coarse grains that had been left behind. After trudging back to the dorms last night, the two had stripped off their soaked shirts and pants and then collapsed on the bed, their bodies covered in a fine layer of sand and the scent of seawater still on them.

"_Hear the song of night tide _

_It's been ages since I felt this alive _

_At long last I've found you and it ends _

_The loneliness we feel that they could never understand…"_

The blonde sniffed himself unsurely. What had smelled sexily salty and breezy last night now reminded him of spoiled seaweed. Roxas fanned himself and rose from the bed in a crouch, searching the floor for a pair of pants; he yanked on the first pair he found (Axel's, he could tell, by the way they trailed on the floor) and began searching for his boyfriend.

"_And in this land beyond the dusk A consummation of---"_

He slammed a hand down on the alarm button of the stereo as he walked past it, the force making the CDs and cassettes stacked precariously next to it tremble. Roxas frowned as he continued the search for Axel. A peek into the tiny kitchenette area revealed the redhead, who was cursing and angrily poking at the microwave. He wore a frayed black tank and a pair of holey pajama pants, the latter looking like it was close to its final hour.

The kitchen area was clean and filled with new looking appliances, but still extremely cramped. A mini-fridge, a small pantry, a toaster, and a two-burner stove completed the cluttered kitchen. Axel caught a glimpse of the blonde out of the corner of his eye and turned to face him, breaking into a bright smile. "Oh! Morning, sleepy-head." He sniffed and pursed his lips. "We smell like high tide."

"What are you doing?" Roxas asked suspiciously, eyeing the microwave and taking note of the older man's slightly fidgety behavior. It hadn't taken Roxas long to learn the number one rule with Axel-- never let him cook.

"Makin' breakfast. You want some cereal?" He asked brightly, pointing at the microwave and grinning.

Roxas tried to ignore the disgustingly cheery tone in Axel's voice. No one should be that happy in the morning. "Axel… cereal doesn't involve microwaving at any point in time. At all. Ever."

The blonde watched in hazy disbelief as the man pulled the bowl out of the microwave, blowing lightly at the cereal to cool it off. Axel gave him an ecstatic grin. "It's Lucky Chaaaarms," he sing-songed, sloshing the contents of the bowl around temptingly.

Roxas tried not to be sick at the gurgling, sploshing sound that the soggy and inflated Lucky Charms made as they were whisked around. "Throw it in the trash," he ordered.

"But--"

"In. The. Trash."

Axel looked forlornly at his little mutant cereal creation, then back up at Roxas. He gave in with a sigh and emptied the bowl into the trashcan. Roxas looked on approvingly, but noted the disappointed frown on the redhead's lips. He walked gingerly up behind Axel and gave his shoulders a rub.

"Go get in the shower. _I'll_ make breakfast." The blonde threaded a hand through the redhead's hair and pulled his head down close enough to kiss.

"But… I wanted to make _you_ breakfast," Axel pouted, his sad emerald eyes pulling at Roxas' heartstrings.

"Well… okay," Roxas relented. "We'll both make breakfast. I'll teach you."

"Yes!" Axel exuberantly jumped up and down. "I can help! I'll go get the eggs and mayonnaise."

"M-mayonnaise? We don't need-- oh, for Christ's sake."

Twenty minutes (and six smashed eggs, four pieces of burnt toast, and one spilled jar of jelly) later, the two were settled on the floor with their plates resting on their laps.

"You stole my pants," Axel noticed in between bites of a slightly-charred piece of jam covered toast. Roxas had scoffed when Axel declared the toast acceptable, saying that the older man was just too proud to admit he'd burned _another_ piece of bread beyond recognition. But the truth was that the redhead actually preferred his food a little on the burnt side.

"They were on the floor. Free game. Where did my clothes go?"

"I put 'em in the wash earlier, right before I went to the post office."

"How early do you get up?" Roxas asked in amazement.

"Uh… around five or six, usually. Depends."

"Why?" Roxas wrinkled his nose at the thought of crawling out of bed that early. It was nearly criminal.

"To watch the sun rise, of course." Axel grinned lopsidedly, his head cocked to one side as he gauged Roxas' reaction. "Don't you ever watch it?"

"Uh…" The blonde rubbed his feet together. "I'm not usually up until way after the sun. I watch the sun set sometimes, though."

"Sunset's nice too; not as good as sunrise, but still pretty cool. Watching the sun rise makes me feel kinda special… like I get to see it before everyone else, you know?"

"You're a morning person," Roxas grumbled.

"That I am," Axel said cheerily. "Best time of the day."

Roxas chose not to respond, fearing he would end up shoving an egg down Axel's cheery throat. He looked over instead at the floor length mirror by the door and cringed. The mirror was harsh in its depiction of the two-- Axel's hair matted down and tangled, and his own blonde spikes a clumpy mess, briny dirt streaked through the light gold. He could even see the sand that still clung desperately to their skin in the reflection.

"We look like shit." Roxas felt this was a very astute observation, given that it was still early and his brain wasn't fully functioning yet. He also dimly realized that Axel hadn't bothered to clean up before going out in public and running his early morning errands. Ew.

"I concur. We should go take a shower."

Roxas nodded as he curved his body in an attempt to stretch out a kink in his back. "You want to go first? I take a long time. Or that's what my mom says, anyway. I don't want to use all the hot wa--"

"No, I don't think you understand, Roxie, baby," Axel interrupted with a coy smile. "I think _we_ should go take a shower."

The blonde let his mouth hang open for a second. "You mean, like… together? At the same time?" he squeaked.

"Well, yeah. That's… generally the idea of a shower _with your boyfriend_. It's a special… bonding… thing. C'mon! You don't have anything I haven't seen before."

"You've never seen me naked!"

"That's not what I meant," Axel sighed, rolling his eyes. "It's not that big of a deal, you know. Just two guys in a shower… with all that soap and steam," he added lowly, slowly dragging his tongue across his lower lip. "… and plenty of opportunities to rub--"

"Stop, stop, stop," Roxas said quickly, sending a glare toward the snickering redhead sitting across from him. His blush did little to help him seem convincing. "I'm… I'm just a little-- a little…"

"Self-conscious?"

"I guess."

"Don't be. Plus, if you agree, you get to see my tattoos."

Roxas sputtered. "You never told me you had any tattoos! Well, except for the ones on your face, but those are kind of obvious. You didn't have to tell me about those ones. But how many do you have? Are you sure you didn't catch any diseases from those needles? I've heard stories ab--"

"Hey, relax. I got them done in a nice, certified, sanitary place, okay? Same place my brother went to, and nothing bad ever happened to him. Well, not cause of tattoos anyway." Axel stood and offered a hand to the boy.

Roxas licked his lips. He looked from the outstretched hand to the face above him and back again. With a sigh, he took it and was hauled to his feet. Roxas gasped-- in an instant he felt nimble fingers undoing the zipper on his pants and tugging at the waistband.

"I'll be taking _these_ back," Axel grinned, pushing the shocked blonde down on to the bed behind him and ripping the pants the rest of the way off. Roxas pulled his bare legs close, his knees pressed against his chest, and watched the man with wide eyes.

Axel slowly removed his shirt, stretching just enough to show off his lean and lightly muscled upper body. He laughingly spun the discarded shirt around stripper-style before tossing it to the blonde. Roxas caught it instinctively and threw it right back.

"Roxas! You're not supposed to toss it _back_," Axel chided as he slipped out of the ragged pajama pants, clicking his tongue at the boy.

Roxas forgot to argue. This was the closest he'd ever seen Axel to being completely nude. A pair of black and red striped boxers was all that stood between him and full-Axel-nakedness.

"I can't believe you even wear the RGU colors on your _underwear_," the blonde said sneeringly.

"Hey, it was a just coincidence, alright? Even I'm not that lame. Besides, you have no room to talk, checkers boy." He snorted as Roxas shifted in a sad attempt to hide his black and white checkered boxers. "Now come on, let's get naked and wet!"

"I'm not so sure anymore," Roxas said flatly as he stood. "You seem awfully frisky."

The redhead pouted and imitated a puppy whine. It got the desired effect. Roxas hesitantly relented and followed the tall man into the bathroom.

"Every dorm room gets its own bathroom. Nice, huh?" Axel locked the door and started turning on the water. "It takes a while for it to get hot, though," he said a little loudly, trying to make himself heard over the noisy hiss of the water pouring from the showerhead.

Roxas got the feeling that these bathrooms were not made for two people to occupy them at once. He had to lean backwards over the toilet for the both of them to fit. The blonde bit his lip and studied the ceiling, which seemed much, _much_ more interesting than Axel's almost naked body. Yup. He was _not_ going to stare at Axel.

"You ready?"

Roxas tore his eyes away from the ceiling long enough to realize that Axel had stripped the last of the clothing from his body and was now waiting for Roxas, an amused expression plastered on his face.

"Huh?" Roxas' face burned red hot and he tried his hardest to look Axel in the eye. The worst thing, he realized, was that his pair of boxers did little to hide the growing sign of his attraction. _'Fuck, I'm not even in the shower with him yet and I'm getting hard.'_

"You," the redhead said loudly, pointing at the younger boy. "Me." He pointed to himself, treating Roxas in a very Tarzan-like fashion. "Naked. In shower." He poked the translucent glass of the shower wall with one slender finger. A wry grin spread slowly over his face. "Lotsa fun. Now take it off, Rox."

The blonde looked shyly down, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. He quickly pulled out the waistband and wriggled free of the garment, stepping out of the boxers and kicking them into the corner. Roxas stood nervously in front of the older man, hating the complete exposure. He wrung his hands shakily, unsure of what to do with them, where to place them.

Axel wrapped a hand around his forearm and gently coaxed him into the shower. Roxas could already feel the fine droplets of mist coating his skin. He could see water clinging to Axel, the drops dripping from the ends of his drooping spikes. Axel shut the shower door with a muffled snap.

"It's okay to look, you know. I know you want to. Don't be embarrassed." Axel smiled down at the boy, who was still pointedly looking up. He grinned slyly. "I mean, I've definitely been taking advantage of seeing _you_ naked. Never have I wanted photographic memory so badly."

Roxas snorted and slapped a hand over his face, letting it slide slowly down until it just covered his mouth. He met Axel's eyes once, suddenly and boldly, and then let his gaze drift down, his face getting hotter with every new inch he took in.

"Oh… wow. Just… wow."

"You like it?" Axel grinned, raising his eyebrows proudly.

"How could I not?"

"And the tattoo? Or did you not notice it yet?" the redhead teased, reaching out and flicking the blonde across the nose playfully.

Sure enough, when Roxas looked down-- and away from a certain, rather impressive part of Axel's anatomy-- there was a small, black and red heart on the left side of the redhead's hip. Oh, sidenote-- yes, Axel _was_ a natural redhead. It's for sure now.

"I'm going to take a big leap here and guess that your favourite colors are black and red?" Roxas smirked, leaning against the wall of the shower and looking at the tattoo curiously. The flared black heart was crisscrossed with what looked like bold, bloodred thorns.

"You're not wrong." Axel leaned against the wall as well. The near scalding jet of water from the showerhead behind him had now soaked his scarlet hair, bringing down the jarring spikes and making the older man look a bit tamer. "And here's the other one," he said, using one arm to lift his curtain of hair in the back as he turned his upper body so his back would face Roxas.

The blonde pushed a few chunks of clinging hair to the side to see it clearly; on the back of the drummer's neck was something that looked a bit like a Celtic cross. Spikes of various sizes radiated from a circle filled with looping Celtic knots, and twists of jagged, thorn-like ink spread down his neck to the top of his shoulders. Roxas was surprised he'd never seen it before, but realized that unless you were looking for a tattoo under all that hair, you probably wouldn't find it.

"Why do you hide them?" Roxas asked, slightly baffled. It seemed conflicting—Axel wore the inked triangles under his eyes proudly for all to see, yet kept these intricate ones covered with clothes and hair?

"I got these two when I was a kid," Axel explained, taking Roxas' wrist and pulling him close despite the weak protests the blonde made. "My ma woulda freaked. So I made sure she wouldn't find them," he winked. "These other two," he whispered, using his index and middle fingers to point at the ones on his face, "came later. Kind of like… an open act of rebellion. Just before I graduated high school."

"You rebel, you."

"Yup, that's me," the redhead grinned. "But enough talking about _me_. We came in here to get clean, remember?" Axel reminded him, slowly pushing his hands down the blonde's sides and onto his hips. He grinned and pulled Roxas slowly closer, swaying his body as he drew him in.

Roxas squeaked as the older man poured a generous amount of shampoo directly onto his soaked head and began gently massaging the blonde hair. The clarinetist found it hard to resist leaning up against Axel; the redhead's touch was firm and slow, almost sensual in a way, as he worked the cinnamon scented shampoo into the younger man's golden hair. Roxas closed his eyes and enjoyed the pampering for another minute or so. Just as he was on the verge of sighing contentedly, Axel aimed the jet of water at his head. Which also included his face. It was pretty much the equivalent of a bitch slap, as far as Roxas was concerned.

He sputtered disgracefully as the tall man just laughed and continued rinsing his hair free of the lather for him. Roxas pouted, his sopping bangs hanging over the upper half of his face.

"Come on, Roxy." Axel grinned as he squeezed some shampoo in his hand and began working on his own hair. "It was a joke. Ha ha, you know?" He washed and rinsed his hair quickly, not wanting to waste time on himself.

"Ha. Ha. Ha," Roxas deadpanned lowly. Oh, he was _not_ amused. No amount of hot, sexy, wet, naked Axel was going to sway him from his current grumpiness.

"Aw, did I make you mad?" Axel asked teasingly, his lips turned down in a mocking pout. "I'm sorry," he apologized, not looking very sorry at all. Roxas was just about to point that out when Axel encircled his waist with thin, strong arms and pulled him flush against his own body. "Want me to make it up to you?"

Roxas opened his mouth to speak but found he could not. Axel's roving hands had always been sufficiently distracting as it was, but as the older man grew bolder and bolder those hands quickly became impossible to ignore. The redhead grabbed a bar of soap from the shower rack attached to the wall behind the blonde. He rolled the ivory bar in his hands then handed it to Roxas, chuckling as the boy struggled to keep a hold on it.

Roxas shuddered as he felt Axel's hands rubbing his back and shoulders, spreading a thin sheen of soap as he went. He continued down the clarinetist's upper arms and his sides, humming contentedly.

The blonde considered the soap in his hands for a moment. He put his hands against the older man's pale chest and began slowly rubbing, his palms unsurely traversing the redhead's torso. The soap made his skin slick and shiny. Roxas gulped.

As he stood naked in the shower, engaged in a _very_ pleasurable rub-fest with a college man, one horrifying series of thoughts circled around in Roxas' mind uncontrollably, like a merry-go-round gone horribly, horribly wrong: _'Oh God, what if mom walked in right now? Shit, what if she walked in on us somehow? No, that's impossible… but still, what if she did? Fuck. I'd be dead. And Axel would be castrated. And then dead.'_

"You look distracted," Axel pouted, clearly upset at the blonde's vacant expression as they rinsed themselves clean. There was a moment where the redhead's eyes flickered with doubt, before icing over with resolve a second later. "But I can fix that."

"Eh?" Roxas asked quickly, suddenly worried about the brazen look in those emerald eyes. Behind the determination, Roxas thought he caught a hint of hunger as well.

"I'll make it so you _can't_ ignore me, silly," the redhead clarified with a wink. And a smirk. And the smirk was what really worried the younger man.

Before Roxas could object, Axel gripped firmly to the blonde's hips and began slowly lowering himself to his knees. He pressed his mouth to the boy's chest as he sank, licking and nipping at the clean, wet skin all down his stomach. The blonde gasped in surprise, leaning back against the shower wall for support-- he braced himself against the wall with one hand and wrapped the other securely in Axel's soaked cherry hair.

The redhead took his time, licking and nipping at the pale, tender skin, pausing for a minute to flick his tongue into the boy's navel. This action earned a startled gasp from Roxas, who was looking openmouthed and wide-eyed at the ceiling.

"A-Axel," Roxas panted, looking down at the redhead before him.

"Mmmmhmm?" Axel acknowledged pleasantly. He turned his viridian eyes up toward Roxas' own, holding the blonde's gaze as he drew his tongue in lazy circles across his lower stomach.

"Oh… that f-feels good," Roxas managed to whimper, shivering as he heard Axel laughing lowly. Another sharp gasp as the redhead's deliberate tongue flitted over the head of his painfully erect member. The blonde tried to suppress the shudder that seemed to spread to the very tips of his fingers.

Roxas felt consumed by dancing heat as Axel focused his attentions on his aching cock. He writhed under the searing touch of the man's mouth, not sure where to place his hands or how he was supposed to react to this. The blonde felt his knees weaken at the building pleasure, threatening to bring him sliding to the floor of the shower.

Axel, as though sensing this, pushed Roxas against the chilled tiles of the far shower wall, effectively pinning him there as he continued sucking and licking the younger man greedily.

Roxas relaxed as he felt himself being supported; he dug his hands roughly into the older man's ruby hair, no longer concerned with how he was supposed to act or behave. Half-contained sighs turned into full-blown moans and muttered urgings for Axel to continue.

The redhead chuckled, fully enjoying himself, and dragged the tip of his tongue along the base of the shaft. He listened intently over the hiss of the water for those pleasurable sounds-- Roxas panting, Roxas moaning, Roxas saying _his_ name. Axel drank it up, happy to be the source of the blonde's current euphoria.

Roxas felt as though he was being swallowed up; he felt more pressure inside of him than he'd ever imagined was possible. _'Is this normal? To feel like this?'_ The blonde didn't have much time to wonder-- suddenly his breathing stopped, leaving him clutching desperately at Axel's hair. There was a moment of release-- sweet and drawn out-- and Roxas' cobalt blue eyes fluttered shut. He reopened them a few seconds later and was treated to a close-up of Axel's gratified grin.

"What?" Roxas was startled at his own voice, at how shaky it was. He was still flushed and panting, leaning back against the soothingly cool tile of the wall-- it was a nice contrast to the scorching combination of steaming water and Axel.

"See? I told you we'd have fun." The older man smiled, turning off the shower with a turn of the squeaky handle.

Roxas raised his eyebrows. "I think your definition of 'fun' is a little twisted," he told the Cheshire-like Axel as they stepped out of the shower a second later. "Seems more like sexual deviancy to m-- oompf!"

Roxas staggered back a step, clawing blindly at the towel Axel had just thrown at his face. He pulled the fluffy, warm towel off of his head and, in an act of insolence, stuck his tongue out at the man. "Nyeh," he finished petulantly, crossing his arms while still holding the towel.

"Stick your tongue out at me again and I'll take it as an invitation," Axel warned with a cheeky grin. "Keep that teasing little tongue of yours out of sight."

Roxas made a nearly indiscernible snort of disbelief, but also seemed to heed the words. He blushed and kept his mouth tightly shut, knowing the redhead wouldn't need much incentive to act out on his warning. "You do, and I'll snap you on the ass with this towel," Roxas warned quickly, speaking through his teeth. He twisted the towel in his hands threateningly.

Axel arched a brow, not looking too put off by the idea. "Kinky."

"Oh, shut up, that's not how I meant it!"

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"What the fuck is that?" Cid looked admonishingly down at the oversized canvas on the floor, on which a vast forest underneath a sunny blue sky was being painted. Axel and Roxas looked up from the floor, where they'd been hunched over the work-in-progress. Axel sniggered at the older man's comment but remained focused on painting his little pine trees.

"Uh…" Roxas began replying, looking unsurely down at the sun he'd been meticulously painting. "It's a sun, sir."

"Horse shit, Blondie! It looks like someone managed to vomit in a perfect circle!" Cid managed to shout around the toothpick hanging limply in his mouth.

Roxas gaped, feeling more than a little offended. It was a _good_ sun! It was yellow and round, just like it was supposed to be! "B-but, sir--"

"'Sir'? _'Sir'_?" Cid repeated. "Fuckin' hell, MacKenna, I thought you had the kid better trained than this. Listen up, Sunshine," Cid grinned at the blonde, crouching down to be at eye level. "No one calls me 'sir', never. Now move your ass and let me show you how it's done."

Cid more or less shoved Roxas to the side and snatched the yellow-dipped brush from his hands. Within a few moments, the gruff blonde had completely altered the boy's sun-- the perfect circle of single-toned yellow was streaked with orange and white, and a few hints of smoldering red. Several deft brushstrokes blended the colors effortlessly, making the pigmented sun look swirling and chaotic, almost alive.

"There ya go, kid. Now don't let me catch you making a shitty-ass attempt at art again, got it?"

Roxas nodded meekly and let out a grateful sigh as Cid left, no doubt to harass someone else. The dejected blonde scowled darkly at Axel, who was shaking as he tried to contain his laughter.

The redhead wiped his eyes and sighed. "Rox, don't let him get to you."

"He-he just insulted my art! And it was a pretty sun," he muttered stubbornly. Roxas grabbed a new brush, ran it through the glob of light blue paint, and proceeded to cover the remaining spaces of blank canvas with the sky-color.

"That's Cid for you." Axel rested on his heels and rubbed the blonde's shoulder sympathetically. "He's not doing it to pick on you, you know."

Roxas scoffed.

"Seriously! It means he likes you. Cid has a… uh, _unique_ way of showing affection."

"Right. Verbal abuse has never been so heartwarming," Roxas said with a subtle roll of his eyes.

"He likes you," Axel repeated, grinning slightly. "And trust me, it isn't easy to get on Cid's good side. Took me a whole year, almost."

"Hm… so, Axel… feel like telling me about your family yet?" Roxas could see the older man shift uncomfortably out of his peripheral vision.

"Why don't you go first?" the redhead countered. He settled onto the floor and crossed his long legs, taking a break from their joint-painting.

"Uh, cause my family's boring," the blonde said obtusely. "And if you want to know about them, I can take you to my house and we can spy on them through the kitchen window. But your family is far away, so you have to explain them to me."

The older man sighed and began cracking his knuckles. "Okay, let's see… we'll start with my dad. He left just after I was born. And he never bothered to talk to me until last year, and even then all he managed to do was stir up shit."

"Oh." Roxas was a little taken aback by the sudden sharing.

"And now Ma… she fed me and raised me for seventeen years, and for that I am grateful. She's funny and loud, too. But she's set in her ways, and would absolutely _die_ if she found out that one of her sons was a homosexual. And I'm not kidding," he added, looking pointedly at the giggling Roxas, "she'd really probably keel over and die."

That wiped the smile off of the blonde's face.

"And that just leaves my older brother, Reno. Reno is a peculiar creature. He looks like me, only with longer hair and different tattoos, and he's not as tall. He likes to gamble, but he isn't any good at it. When we were kids, I'd be the lookout while he'd sneak into stores and nick candy from the shelves. He was a very bad influence on me."

"I'll bet," Roxas said with a slight smirk. "I think I feel a little sorry for your mom. You two must have been monsters."

"Hah, between my lighting various items in the house on fire and Reno's tendency to break everything he touched, I think Ma came dangerously close to kicking us both onto the curb more than once." He laughed, rolling onto his back and then just lying there for a moment. "Your turn."

"Um… I don't have any brothers or sisters. I almost had a little sister, but she died just after she was born. And I was pretty young at the time, so I didn't quite understand," he explained. "My dad is the strong, silent type. _Very_ silent. And my mom… she used to be a lot like Sora, actually. But she changed over the last few years. She stays home a lot now."

"Huh. No pets?"

"I had a fish. His name was F-- wait, promise me you won't laugh first," Roxas demanded.

"What?" Axel laughed despite himself. "Yeah, alright, whatever. I promise I won't laugh."

"Okay, his name was Finnykins--" he mustered up an angry glare for the sniggering redhead "--and he was a really pretty Siamese fighting fish. He was dark red and purple and he was _so_ beautiful, I just loved him."

Axel frowned. "So what happened to him?"

"I had to go to my grandma's for Thanksgiving, so I asked Sora to fish-sit for me."

"Oh no." His green eyes widened, sensing the turn this story was about to take.

"Oh yes," Roxas said sadly. "In hindsight, that wasn't the smartest choice I could have made. As soon as I got back home, Sora called and startled bawling over the phone. He'd put a seashell inside the tank for Finnykins to swim into, but apparently it was too small, cause his head got stuck inside the shell and he died."

"Aw. Did you flush him?"

"_What_?! Of course not, that's terrible! I put him in a Ziploc bag and buried him next to the tree in my backyard."

"Oh."

"And I made a tombstone out of an old plate for him."

"Touching. I feel warm and fuzzy right here," the redhead smirked, putting his hand over his chest, right above his heart.

"You're mocking me. You're mocking me and my selfless love for Finnykins," Roxas deadpanned.

"'_Selfless_'? Try irrational. It's a fish. You eat them all the time."

"So?" Roxas hissed, looking offended. "Finny-poo was different. H-he knew when I was sad, and he'd make this face," Roxas paused to imitate the face, sucking in his cheeks and pushing out his lips, "and it would always cheer me up. He was the best friend a child could ask for. I mourned him for weeks! But then, you know… my mom bought me one of those Furby things."

Axel blinked slowly and then smiled, looking on Roxas with some mix of warmth and amusement. "I love you."

The blonde blushed and looked down at the painting, murmuring something unintelligible and snatching up his paintbrush. Axel watched him with an openmouthed grin, snickering as the teen nearly knocked over a bucket of paint with his flustered fidgeting.

"Hey, Sunshine!" Cid hollered from across the room, waving a tanned arm to get his attention. "Get your fucking ass over here, son. I've got some dried paint that needs to be scraped off the damn table, and you're just the kid to fucking do it."

Roxas gave Axel a dark glare. "And I suppose manual labor is another sign of Cid's so-called 'affection'?"

The redhead just smiled and offered to help.

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Five hours later, Roxas was following the older man back to his room to collect his things before being driven back home. He thought back on the day so far, recalling the morning's shower with a pleasant churn of his stomach. That had been the highlight, by far.

Of course, there had also been the bit that Axel explained about his family. It wasn't much, but it was nice to have something to go by. The blonde found himself imagining what the rest of Axel's family would look like, wondering if Axel's parents were as stunning as their son. _'Probably,'_ he thought with a touch of envy, deciding it would be far too unfair for an entire family to be graced with such good looks.

After scraping the paint from all of the tables in Cid's classroom (it had been a long and arduous task), Roxas had followed the redhead to a quick drum rehearsal. He'd sat in a corner of the band room, watching Axel alternately berate and encourage the drummers as they perfected their show music. Having never actually seen his boyfriend working with the drumline, Roxas had found it quite interesting. Axel's methods included rewards of doughnuts for good playing, hurled drumsticks for incorrect rhythms, and heavy usage of all-purpose threats. As Roxas watched the redheaded drum captain force a battered football helmet onto a freshman bass drummer's head then whip out a pair of heavy mallets and begin beating out the tempo on his shielded skull to keep him playing at the right speed, the blonde could only thank God that he had chosen to play clarinet over percussion.

After a quick lunch from the campus food court, the two had spent the day wandering the grounds, occasionally bumping into people Axel knew and Roxas vaguely remembered from the workshop forever ago. They'd had a brief talk with Paine, who only acknowledged Roxas with a curt nod, and two girls named Rikku and Yuna, both of whom had taken great care to coo over Roxas and then tell Axel that he wasn't worthy of someone so cute.

Throughout the course of the day, they also ran into Baralai, who was disheveled and muttering something about Twister, and Cloud, who had seemed distracted during their entire conversation. Axel mentioned to Roxas later that the blonde trombonist was spazzing over a date he was supposed to be having with Leon later that evening. Roxas couldn't blame the man; Leon seemed more intimidating than anything else. He supposed it was the leather that did it-- after all, it just gives off an aura of 'totally badass'.

After a few more hours of aimless wandering and watching Ultimate Frisbee games, they began their retreat back to Axel's room.

"I had fun today." Roxas shoved his hands deep inside his pockets, the tips of his fingers brushing over the loose change and crumpled gum wrappers within.

"Me too. It was a rich, full day." He groaned as they worked their way up the steep hill that led to his building. "And I'll bet you ten bucks that by the time we get up to the room, Demyx'll be dancing around in his underwear again. Are we on?"

"No way, I don't even have ten dollars to lose… he seriously dances like that all the time, doesn't he?"

"Yup. At least when he's happy."

They rounded a corner and the room came into sight, the door left slightly ajar and faint music trailing out. Axel gave the blonde next to him an 'I told you so' look. He held Roxas back with one arm and kicked the door open for dramatic effect.

The effect was lost, however, as Axel was the one left staring in shock. Roxas peered cautiously around the taller man blocking the doorway. Lounging on Axel's bed was a lanky redhead in a casual black suit, the buttons undone and his shirt untucked. A cigarette was held carefully between his fingers.

"Hey, bro!"

"Is that your brother? Reno?" Roxas whispered, peeking shyly around the taller man's midsection for a better look.

"Demyx!" Axel hissed, completely disregarding the grinning redhead on his bed and glaring pointedly at the shamefaced mellophonist. "I _told_ you never to let him in! Fuck, he's like a stray dog! And now he'll _never_ leave!"

"Yo. Yeah, hey, I'm still in the room. Right here. Still listening."

Axel made no sign of even hearing his older brother, opting instead to cross his arms and pout as he stared at Demyx with doom-filled eyes. "I blame you."

"Alright, alright, calm down, Axie. Don't throw a hissy," Reno said soothingly, putting out his cigarette and standing. He was about four inches shorter than Axel, with long scarlet hair pulled back in a ponytail. Two red, crescent shaped tattoos curved under his eyes, the color of the ink matching the strands that framed his face perfectly. "You're such a dramaqueen."

"I walk into my room expecting to see my roommate dancing half-naked, and I get my lame-ass, mooching brother sitting on my shit instead. I'm entitled to throwing a hissy right now." Axel's lower lip jutted out in an angry pout.

"That's harsh, yo. I don't mooch," Reno objected, putting on an identical pout. "And I resent tha-- hey, who's your friend?" he asked suddenly, as if noticing Roxas for the first time. "Ohohoho, don't tell me-- he's your _boyfriend_," Reno said teasingly, poking Axel in the chest as he said it. "Wait till Ma hears this!"

"You'd better not tell her, Reno," the younger redhead warned, grabbing his brother's wrist.

"Or what?" Reno asked mockingly, cocking his head to one side.

"Or I'll tell her what _really_ happened when you went to New Orleans with Rude for Mardi Gras."

Reno paled at this. He dropped his voice to a strained whisper. "Ax, I thought we agreed that would never, _ever_ be brought up again, _ever_."

"I thought we agreed who and what I do in bed would never be mentioned to Ma," Axel countered. "You out me, and I'll out you, bitch."

"Fucker! You're so low." Reno jabbed Axel in the side, and was then knocked backward onto the bed as the taller man retaliated.

Demyx moved to stand next to Roxas by the doorway, watching solemnly as the two brothers rolled around the floor in a tangled heap. "He knocked on the door about half an hour before y'all got here. I thought it'd be just plain rude to make him stand outside the whole time," Demyx explained to the blonde. "It was awkward," he added in a low whisper, "cause I was dancing when he showed up all of a sudden, an' I was just wearing my--"

"Sissy-kicker!" Axel roared, startling both Axel and Roxas. He managed to wrangle his older brother into a headlock, his mouth in a grimace and his jaw clenched.

"Hair-puller!" Reno hissed as he elbowed Axel in the side then bent backward to slap the younger man in the face.

Demyx and Roxas watched on in silence, too scared and amazed to try and interfere with the wrestling pair on the floor. It was like a mix of watching a car wreck and two cats fighting; on the one hand, it was so startling you simply couldn't bring yourself to look away, and on the other, it seemed like you could become collateral damage if you tried to separate the two.

After another few hectic minutes, the brothers' fight subsided into half-hearted kicks and lazy slaps. The two lay tangled on the floor panting and cursing each other under their breath.

"Well," Reno wheezed, grinning, "at least we got it out of our systems now." He brushed himself off a little and swept back his crimson bangs.

"I guess," Axel reluctantly agreed, clambering up onto his bed. "So why are you here? Did you renege on a debt again? Lose another big bet? Decide it was time to make my life a living hell?"

"Yep, all of those. But I also wanted to make sure you were doing okay," Reno said with a nod. "I, uh, have some news, too."

"Bad news or good news?" Roxas asked with a frown, flopping down next to Axel on the bed.

Reno leaned back on the floor and gave Roxas an appraising look. "Ah, right, the boyfriend. Do you have a name, blondie?"

"It's Roxas," Axel supplied, looking irritated.

"_Roxas_," Reno said with a grin. "I like it. Sounds sexy. You must be a lotta man to be able to handle Ax."

"Reno, _shut up_," Axel moaned, his head buried in his hands. "You embarrass me."

"Well, _you_ embarrass me. Like that time in middle school when you fell down two flights of stairs at school. God, I thought I was going to die of mortification," the older redhead groaned, adjusting a pair of goggles that were half-hidden under his bangs. "And we look so much alike that I couldn't even deny being related to you, you klutz…"

"Yeah, I'm sorry my falling down those stairs was traumatic for _you_, asshole. My two broken ribs were nothing compared to your emotional suffering." Axel scoffed, turning a little red and sending a sidelong glance toward Roxas. "And let's not reminisce right now, okay?" he added lowly, giving Reno a warning look.

Reno held his hands up in a gesture of surrender, hoping to appease his little brother. "Whatever you say. So, like I said-- news." The redheaded man grinned weakly, looking as if he'd rather not say what was on his mind. "And it isn't good, Axie."

Axel frowned slightly, his forehead creasing as he studied Reno. "Go on, out with it."

Roxas watched the two apprehensively, paying close attention to Axel. The redhead looked paler than usual, and the easy, unconscious smile that he usually worse was replaced by a thoughtful frown.

"Uh… Ma wants to visit you. Here."

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**That ending seems really lame, right? But trust me, Axel and Reno's mom is scary, so that last sentence should inspire fear. FEAR, I SAY! Whoo, so I really wanted to get this out before school starts (tomorrow, arg!) because I will have no life outside of school and band for the next few weeks. None. I rushed the ending just a tad, because this chapter came out way longer than I'd intended. And the song lyrics are to Santa Carla Twilight by Tiger Army. I love them more than usual right now.**

**And now something I've been meaning to do for a while now-- three fics that I love. So I'm shamelessly plugging them. Cause this is my fic and I can do that. D**

**Band Geeks** by Iridane. An AkuRoku band fic that is wicked cute and funny. AND it has Baralai and Gippal in it, YES!

**His Last Request** by QueenStrata. SO super cool and sexy. That's right, I said sexy.

**I am an American Soldier **by kettish. It has southern!Roxas. Need I say more?

**I spent the last two weeks in band camp, and I now have plenty of inspiration for future more-band-filled chapters. Buuut, now I also have the whole Reno thing to play with… that'll be interesting, I think. Also, I just seem to be getting worse and worse about replying to reviews. I don't think I even managed to reply to half of them from last chapter. But I read and cherish every one of them! Even if I don't reply. Time is just limited for me right now; it'll be better in a few weeks, I'm hoping.**

**Review!!1!!1!!!!!1!!11! Puh-lease?**


	11. I Wanna Hold Your Hand

**This chapter's largely Riku/Sora centric. Sorry to disappoint any major Akuroku fans. Extra thanks to combo-bass for beta-ing this amazingly quickly! If you want to know why I took so long to get this chapter out, there'll be a note at the bottom. Otherwise, I'm sorry for the uber long wait, and enjoy.**

"Bring me all of your dreams, you dreamer

Bring me all of your heart melodies

That I may wrap them in a blue cloud-cloth

Away from the too-rough fingers of the world."

---Langston Hughes

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The ride home was tense. Roxas sat quietly in the passenger seat, shifting under the stiff silence. He shivered under the cool air blasting from the AC. The switch to control the air had broken off some time ago, so there was no way to adjust the temperature. _'This is almost as bad as Sora's car,' _he thought sulkily, wondering why crappy cars were so common among his friends.

Axel's knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, his eyes never leaving the road ahead. Roxas recalled the shock and faint anger the older man had expressed after learning of his mother's intentions of visiting.

'_Could she really be that bad?' _Roxas wondered, wishing he could have stayed and spoken with Reno. Surely the older redhead could have offered some insights into Axel's past, a past that Roxas realized he knew very little about. The puzzling percussionist certainly wasn't going to offer up any answers.

"If you want to ask, go ahead and ask," Axel rasped, as if reading the blonde's mind. His voice was scratchy, deeper than usual, and laced with disappointment. "I can't promise to answer-- at least not right away-- but you can ask."

"What-- er, why does your mom make you so upset? What happened?"

The red haired man sighed, his hands loosening around the steering wheel. "When I was a freshman in high school, I had my first _real_ crush… on the boy next-door. And that was when I knew-- it was like everything just clicked for me. But my mom isn't exactly accepting of that 'lifestyle', so I spent the next two years pretending to be interested in girls, faking everything. I hated myself for it. But anything was better than being gay, _anything_."

Roxas wriggled uncomfortably in his seat. He frowned, his cobalt eyes narrowing slightly. "Did she-- did she ever suspect?"

"A little, I think. She'd catch me looking just a little too long at the waiter, or at the track team as they ran past our house-- completely shirtless, of course. I think she worked herself up into a shit-load of denial afterwards, pretending not to notice whenever I did something telling. She sure as hell made a point of declaring how disgusting and unnatural being gay was, though. It only makes it worse that she might have had an inkling of how I felt."

Axel sounded hurt and spiteful and bitter, and Roxas decided instantly that he hated hearing those things in the redhead's voice; they turned his words hard and acrid, made the lines and planes of his face unusually harsh.

"There were other things to, subtler things. She always seemed disapproving of every little thing I did. And then one day I got a scholarship to Radiant Garden, and it was like the fucking clouds parted and I became the 'Golden Boy'," the percussionist sneered as he said it. "All of a sudden I was worth something. I don't know, really," he added sullenly, smoothing his spikes down habitually. "It bothered me, like I had to prove myself just to get the barest bit of recognition from her. And then I finally got it, and it seemed so… empty."

He sighed. "We just clash. About everything. The smallest thing will set us off, and next thing I know we're yelling and cursing..."

Roxas slumped over to the left, leaning across the cup-holders and resting his head on Axel's shoulder. He nuzzled into the wiry arm, breathing in the smoky, cottony scent of his thin black hoodie. "And what about Reno?"

"What _about_ Reno?" Axel asked with a snort. "You saw him. That was Reno. That's all there is to him-- nothing more, nothing less."

"I find that hard to believe… and he wears goggles. That's pretty cool," Roxas smiled sheepishly, sounding immensely impressed at the older brother's taste in eyewear. "Why don't you wear goggles?"

"Uh, cause I'm not lame? Cause I don't listen to Zack and his inane 'always wear your safety goggles!' speech?" the redhead asked sarcastically, waving one hand wildly as he gesticulated the utter absurdity of Roxas' question.

The blonde smirked against the fabric of Axel's jacket. "Really? I think Reno thought of wearing them first, and you're just a bit jealous," he snickered, sensing that his guess was accurate by the way the redhead tensed up.

"Lies, all of it," Axel insisted, sniffing indignantly. He turned smoothly down another street, passing a glowing convenience store and dimly lit parking lots.

"What about your dad?"

"Let's save that one for later," the redhead said glumly, pulling into the graveled driveway in front of Roxas' house. He offered to walk the boy up to the door, but was met with a polite shake of the head.

"Dad would just spy on us through the peep-hole thing anyway," Roxas said with a gentle grin. "And God forbid you to have to reveal your familial secrets to me all at once," the yellow-haired boy griped sarcastically.

"Hey, it's the mystery that keeps you coming back for more, right?" Axel grinned, arching a brow suggestively. "Or perhaps it's my _special skills_--"

"The shower wasn't _that_ good--"

"I meant my musical and artistic skills, but you bring up a good point; my other skills are pretty advantageous as well." He grinned cockily at the slightly blushing blonde. "Good night, _Sunshine_," he whispered against his reddened cheek, brushing his lips feather-light over the soft skin.

"N-night," Roxas stammered, climbing rather ungracefully from the seat and trotting up the walk to his front door. He stood on the stairs before the door for a few extra seconds, his hand frozen on the knob. The blonde looked back toward the car, hesitant and thoughtful. He paused, lifting his hand up to his lips; he blew a kiss in Axel's direction, then scurried inside.

The redhead caught the invisible kiss in his left hand, closing his fingers gently around it. He opened the hand and looked down at his palm with a smile, shaking his head at the blonde's unexpected actions. Axel slid back in his seat, letting his head thunk against the headrest behind him. "That was so corny," he laughed to himself, feeling a little delirious. "And lame. _Totally_ lame."

He pressed the hand holding the kiss against his lips anyway.

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Sora listened wide-eyed as Roxas recounted the events of the day prior, including his first sexual encounter (leaving out some juicy details, of course).

"My little Roxas, all grown up!" he squealed happily, clapping his hands together ecstatically. "I was talking to Cloud the other night, and he gave me all these pointers to tell you, but I guess you don't need them, huh?"

"I guess not," Roxas replied with a blush, feeling a tiny flowering of pride in his chest. He chewed his thumbnail shyly, a small, lopsided smile half-hidden behind his hand.

Sora and Roxas sat opposite each other in the band room, heads bent close to hear each other over the din of the many students warming up. Roxas idly clicked the keys on his clarinet, mentally noting that he needed to polish the keys sometime. He frowned at the sad state of his instrument: finger-smudged keys, sticky pads, and numerous places where he'd taped cork and paper under keys to keep them from opening too far and putting the notes out of tune.

Roxas kept a close eye on Riku, who seemed to be rather distracted; the trumpet player would glance to Sora every few minutes, as if worried that the boy would disappear when he wasn't looking. Sora, completely oblivious to the older boy's behavior, blathered on incessantly, launching into a dramatic (and probably exaggerated) retelling of his near death experience with his toaster that morning.

'_For all his understanding and brilliance and insight, Sora can still be one of the densest, most unaware people I've ever known,'_ Roxas thought grimly, still watching Riku across the room as he covertly sent the brown haired flutist wistful looks.

"--and then it started making this 'whirring' noise, like 'whiiiiiirr whiiiiiirr', and I could smell the toast burning, so I grabbed a fork and--"

"So, Sora, how are things going with Riku?"

Sora looked a little disappointed at being interrupted, as he'd been nearing the climax of his story, but answered the question happily. "Oh, fine. I saw him at the volleyball game last night and we hung out there for a while. It was really awesome. I did accidentally spill my soda on him though," he added guiltily, blushing slightly as he said it. "Uh, he told me not to worry, that it happens to him all the time, but--" Sora leaned in conspiratorially and lowered his voice to a whisper "-- I think he was just saying that to make me feel better."

"Nah, really?" Roxas asked sarcastically, his face expressionless.

"Yeah." Sora nodded, his mouth in a narrow line.

"So… are you two, like, dating yet?" Roxas swung his clarinet lazily as he asked, waiting patiently as Sora thought it over.

"Uh, no… I don't know if he likes me or not, really. Sometimes I almost think he's just hanging around me 'cause he feels sorry for me or something…" Sora bit his lip and looked Roxas straight in the eyes, his own sapphires looking worried. "Do you think--"

"Of course not, don't be stupid! Why would you even think that?" Roxas asked in disbelief.

"Look at him, Rox! He's cool and sexy and rich and beautiful, and what am I? None of that. I'm clumsy and dorky and poor and plain. Why does he even bother?" The brunette leaned forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees and his head down in disappointment.

"I've never heard you talk like that, Sora," Roxas whispered, shuffling his chair closer to his friend so he could be heard. "Sure, you're definitely clumsy. You can be dorky, too. And your family isn't rich. But you're not plain at all; you have the most beautiful eyes and the prettiest face, and you're charismatic and sweet and funny. You're smart, too. You're so easy to love; I don't see how anyone could resist."

Sora smiled at this, his cheeks turning bright. "You really think so?"

"Absolutely," the blonde assured him, "and don't you ever think any different. Riku would be lucky to have you, and I think he knows it."

"Really?"

"Really. He's looked over here like, twenty times already. I think he's jealous of me. And rightly so," the blonde added with a cheeky grin.

Sora smiled and looked over to the trophy case; in the reflection on the glass he could see the silver haired senior and the intent way he was watching them. Sure enough, he looked to be equal parts longing and envious, the music in front of him completely forgotten as he alternated between staring at Sora and pretending to adjust his valves.

"He likes you," Roxas sing-songed smugly, wiggling his hips slightly in his seat just to annoy Sora. "Told you so."

"Shut up, Rox, or when you least expect it I'll play high G right in your ear," the brunette threatened with a barely contained laugh, waving his piccolo intimidatingly.

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Riku felt the bead of sweat as it ran down the length of his nose, stopping at the tip and clinging there. He could feel the sweat making his hair cling to the back of his neck, making his clothes damp. It was an unusually hot day for October, the slight coolness of the previous weeks having given way into a sultry, steamy afternoon; of course, practicing parade marching on the heated concrete of the parking lot didn't exactly help with the temperature either. Riku wanted desperately to wipe away the perspiration, but knew better than to move while at attention.

The head drum major, an aggressive senior named Setzer, stood before the band, his eyes scanning the group for any movement or fault in posture. Riku could practically feel the drum major's eyes as they passed over him.

"How are your feet?" Setzer shouted, startling a few of the freshmen on the front row.

"Together!" the band replied, the collective sound echoing off of the nearby buildings.

"How is your stomach?"

"In!"

"Your chest?"

"Out!" Riku bellowed along with all the rest. He could feel his shirt clinging to him, the sweat making his white cotton shirt damp and see-through.

"Shoulders?"

"Back!"

"Chin?" The spiky, silvery-grey haired drum major questioned, using a gloved hand to tilt the chin of a saxophone player higher.

"Up!"

"Your eyes?"

"With pride!"

"Your eyes?" Setzer repeated loudly, staring down the players in front of him.

"With pride!" the band members answered him emphatically, their bodies remaining still at attention.

"Good, relax. Take a water break." He waved them back to the shady hill next to the school building where all of their water bottles lay scattered in the grass.

Riku jogged over to the place he'd left his Gatorade, only to be sorely disappointed: his drink was gone. He put his hands on his hips and glared around angrily, planning murder for whoever had decided to steal his icy cool refreshment.

"Something wrong, Riku?" Sora asked amiably. He stood amicably next to the murderous looking senior, his pink, strawberry-flavored Gatorade in hand, and imitated the trumpeter's actions by looking around. "What are you looking for?"

"The bastard that took my drink," Riku said sourly, gritting his teeth. He sighed and plopped onto the ground, reclining against the cool, shady hill and setting his trumpet down beside him. He hid his face behind his hands, knowing his cheeks and nose would be slightly sunburned from the long practice under the bright sun today and not exactly thrilled about Sora seeing; Riku hated how easily he burned. He made a mental note to bring sunscreen the next day, wrinkling his nose at the thought of the smell.

"Oh, damn. That really sucks," the younger boy sympathized, sitting down next to the smoldering senior. He put his piccolo next to the older boy's trumpet. His tanned face was shining with moisture, short wisps of spiky cinnamon hair clinging wetly to his face. "You can have some of mine, you know." Sora smiled and offered his bottle to the older boy, sloshing the pink Gatorade as an invitation.

Riku hesitated briefly, but accepted the drink with a thankful smile. "Thanks, Sora. I'll try not to get my germs on it, okay?" The senior unscrewed the lid and tipped the bottle back, pouring it into his mouth. He was careful to keep the opening well away from his lips.

"Don't worry about it," Sora waved him off, scratching the back of his neck with his other hand. "Your germs don't bother me. Unless you have mono or something…"

Riku coughed violently, spraying pink everywhere. "I don't have mono!"

"It was hypothetical, Riku."

"Oh. Well, I don't. Just in case you were wondering." The trumpet player dug his heels into the side of the hill with a slight frown. He glanced over to Sora, who was playing happily with a roly-poly he'd found in the grass. "Thanks again, Sora. I owe you one," Riku smiled, handing the half-empty Gatorade bottle back to the brunette.

"No problem," the flutist said cheerily, continuing to play with the tiny insect.

Riku looked up at Setzer, who was signaling that they only had another one or two minutes on break before getting back into formation. He blew out sharply, sticking out his lower lip to aim the air up at his bangs; the senior rose and brushed off his clothes, looking despondently down at his pink flecked shirt. _'I hope that stuff washes out.'_

"Ah, don't worry about that, Riku. I've got a bleach pen in my locker. You can use it before you leave," Sora suggested, setting his roly-poly free and standing up next to the trumpeter.

Riku smirked warmly. "Sora, what are you doing later?"

"Huh?" the brunette froze, his crystal blue eyes wide, before words began spilling from his mouth at breakneck speed. "What am I doing later? Absolutely nothing, nothing. I'm not doing anything later. Why? Are you doing anything? Cause I'm not doing anything. Are you doing anything, Riku?"

"Uh," Riku looked to the right, his brow furrowed in mild confusion. "No?"

"Okay, good." Sora cocked his head to the right, squinting thoughtfully, as if trying to remember exactly what all he'd just said.

The senior burst out laughing, doubling over with his hands on his knees. He swept his damp hair back as he straightened out, still chuckling at the flutist. "Okay, that was weird. So do you want to come over to my place? We could eat and do homework or whatever," the silver haired boy suggested, grinning almost uncontrollably.

"Really?" Sora exclaimed, jumping up once excitedly. "Yeah, that'd be great! You have to drive me though… my car kinda broke down last night."

"Hm. How unexpected."

"Don't even start, Riku," Sora warned, well aware of the senior's feelings about his car.

The older boy raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Okay, I won't say it. But only because you let me drink your Gatorade in my time of need."

"I guess we'd better start heading back to the parking lot, huh?" Sora whined, his whole body sagging at the thought. "I don--"

"Hey, Sora," Roxas interrupted, jogging up to the two with his clarinet in one hand and a water bottle in the other. Riku gave him a grumpy look, letting him know he wasn't pleased with the interruption of his Sora-time. Roxas ignored it entirely. "Here, I got your water out of my locker for you, just like I promised," the blonde said in a nagging voice, his limited patience obviously strained under the heat and duration of their practice session.

Sora caught the bottle as Roxas tossed it to him, the blonde then continuing on his grumpy way to the lot.

"You need Gatorade _and_ water?" Riku asked amusedly, secretly hoping that Sora would offer him one of the bottles. He was still thirsty, having not drank his fill earlier out of consideration for Sora's limited supply.

"What? Oh, no, the water isn't for _drinking_," Sora laughed, unscrewing the cap as they began the slow walk back to practice. "Here, hold this for me." The brunette shoved his piccolo and Gatorade bottle into Riku's hands.

"Wha--" The question died in Riku's throat, replaced by a disbelieving gasp.

Sora lifted the bottled water high over his head and then poured it out, letting the clear liquid soak him. It ran in fountains down his hair and face. He shook his head joyfully, sending droplets flying in all directions. The brunette then grinned and tipped his chin up, letting the cool water slide down his neck and chest, leaving a thick trail down his shirt and making the fabric stick to his front. His dark gray shirt clung to his form, practically advertising his narrow waist and smoothly muscled upper body to Riku.

The senior was painfully aware of the tingly sensation he was getting in the pit of his stomach, a feeling he was coming to associate with the smiling brunette before him. _'Damn, when did Sora turn downright sexy?'_

"C'mon, Riku. We don't want to be late."

"Huh?" The trumpet player started, realizing that he'd unwittingly stopped walking due to Sora's distraction. "Oh, I must have… spaced out for a moment there. Sorry." He caught up to the cinnamon haired boy and grinned sheepishly.

"Move your ass, Havelock," Setzer warned, giving him a pointed glare. The drum major clapped his hands, hurrying the last, shambling band members along.

"So, you're gonna wait for me after school, right?" Sora asked in a quick whisper.

"Yeah, I'll meet you in the parking lot. Just wait by my car."

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"_On the road again… Just can't wait to get on the road again… The life I love is makin' music with my friends, and I can't wait to get on the road again…"_

"Sora," Riku sighed, his grip on the steering wheel visibly tightening, "do you _have_ to sing nonstop?"

"Of course I do! Don't complain-- _you're_ the one who made me turn the radio off."

"You had it up so loud you were about to shatter the windows!" the senior complained in a huff. He took a deep breath and focused on the road, occasionally throwing a dark glance at the boy in the passenger's seat next to him.

"Psh, you're exaggerating."

"No, I'm really not."

"You don't like my singing?"

"Sora, there's a reason you're in band instead of choir."

The brunette seemed to take Riku's annoyance into consideration and began quietly humming rather than outright singing. Eventually he stopped even that, instead lightly patting out the rhythm on his thighs. The interior of the car grew nearly silent, the sound of the AC and Sora's muted thrumming the only sounds.

'_It's quiet. _Too_ quiet,'_ Sora thought to himself as he looked around the inside of the car. He just couldn't help himself. It was too good to resist. _"Can you handle the curves, can you run all the lights? If you can, baby boy, then we can go all night… Goes from zero to sixty, in three point five. Baby, you got the keys… now shut up and drive… Shut up and dri--"_

"SORA! Are you trying to drive me insane?"

"Not really, no." Sora leaned back against the window, grinning abashedly.

"Are you sure?" Riku asked slowly, raising his eyebrows suspiciously.

"Pretty sure. I just th--- oh! Oh! Pull over here, pull over! Stop the car, Riku!"

"What?! Why?" the senior asked as he pulled into a small parking lot just off the road. As soon as Riku parked the brunette flew from the car and toward a tent across the parking lot. "Oh yeah, Sora. Don't you worry about me! Just run off in the middle of nowhere without a word, that's cool," Riku shouted out the window. The senior cursed and swung his door open, feeling obligated to follow Sora and make sure he didn't get in any trouble.

As soon as he stepped out of the car, warm, billowing heat engulfed him. The wind was hot and dusty, and the sun uncomfortably bright. Riku put on his sunglasses and jogged straight for the tent, immediately seeking out the lost brunette. The heavy green canvas of the tent flapped in the breeze; Riku walked slowly inside, thankful for the shade. He spotted Sora across the room, picking through a pile of apples and stuffing a few select ones into a large paper bag.

The older boy crossed the room toward the brunette, passing makeshift aisles stacked high with fresh produce: ears of corn, butter yellow squash, watermelons, grapes, pears, strawberries and tomatoes. Sora caught a glimpse of Riku's silver hair as he approached and grinned.

"Look, Riku! Oranges! And even some pomegranates," the cinnamon headed boy said amazedly, looking greedily at all the kinds of fruit before him.

"Wonderful," Riku said flatly, sharing none of Sora's fruit-inspired euphoria. He watched the younger boy quickly fill his bag with fruit and then proceed to the table across the room where the owner of the tent sat in silence.

"Howdy," Sora said in greeting to the grizzled old man, setting the bag filled with various fruit down on the table and reaching for his wallet.

"I'll get it," Riku offered, pulling out a crisp twenty and stepping forward.

"No, I can pay," Sora said quickly, stepping in front of the older boy and handing the old farmer a handful of crumpled bills.

"Is that it for ya?" the farmer asked as he sifted through the bag and tallied up the prices.

"Yup," the brunette nodded brightly. The old man's gnared hands shook as he counted out Sora's money.

"Alright then, you get two dollars and seventy cents back in change," he murmured, reaching into the pocket of his overalls for loose change. "Thanks for buyin', and come back soon, alright?" He handed the fruit and money to Sora and grinned toothily. "Have a good one."

"You too!" Sora answered as he left the tent, bag in hand and Riku in tow.

"What was that about? Suddenly get the urge for a banana or something?" Riku asked as soon as they were clear of the tent.

"Ew, heck no. Bananas are gross." Sora stood beside the car for a moment, waiting for Riku to unlock the door. He fanned himself as he climbed inside; the interior already felt twenty degrees hotter than outside, and Sora could feel his body quickly working up a sweat. "My parents are big on buying local produce and supporting farmers and stuff. Plus, I really like fruit, so it all works out pretty well. Want an orange?"

"Not right now. And no eating that stuff in my car-- it's messy as hell." Riku cranked the air conditioning as he pulled back onto the nearly empty road.

"Yes sir, Riku, sir," Sora smiled, settling the bag onto his lap. He was quiet for the rest of the trip, save the occasional humming. The brunette let out an impressed gasp as they began to pull into the driveway of Riku's house. "No matter how many times I see it, it's just as awesome."

The leaves had begun to turn all shades of gold and yellow and red and purple, more falling to the ground every time the wind rustled the branches. Riku parked in front of the elegant house, and led the brunette up the stairs and into the house.

""Homework first?" the senior asked tentatively as they entered the living room; he flipped on the TV and then turned it down till it was barely audible, then settled onto the cream colored couch in front of it.

"Yeah, homework first," Sora agreed in resignation, unzipping his backpack with a sigh. "You know what I hate? Physics. It's got too much math. And too many formulas. And I get assigned _way_ too much homework in that class."

Riku smiled at that, kicking off his shoes and propping his feet up on the glossy top of the coffee table in front of him. "Is this your Sora-way of asking for help with physics?"

Sora looked shiftily to the left. "Maaaybe."

Riku patted the space of couch next to him invitingly and grinned weakly. "Let's get it over with."

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"It's done!" Sora shouted, standing triumphantly, his arms stretched over his head. "I am the greatest!"

"Oh, my head hurts," Riku mumbled, hunched over as he gently massaged his temples; over an hour of reviewing circular motion, friction, and quantum physics with Sora had taken its toll.

"Really? Is there anything I can do to make it better?" the brown haired boy asked quietly, leaning over to look Riku full in the face.

The senior froze momentarily. "No, I'm fine. Maybe some food--"

"Oh, let's go eat some fruit! We can share! I got a _ton_ of stuff, Riku."

"Okay."

"Can we eat it outside? The sun's setting…" Sora looked so hopeful that Riku couldn't bring himself to say no-- not that he wanted to.

"Sure. Go wait on the porch, I'll be back in a minute," Riku called as he raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Sora did as he was told, picking up the bag of fruit and opening the sliding glass door that lead to the porch in the back yard.

The day's heat was already dissipating, a cooler breeze replacing the hot, dry wind they'd felt earlier. Sora took the time to appreciate the view; the two-story porch over looked the forested back yard of Riku's home. Rolling green hills quickly gave way to ivy-grown trees and rocks, and the sparse woods were bright with the warm shades of turning leaves.

"Ready?" Riku asked breathlessly from behind Sora, sliding the door shut as he spoke. In one hand the senior carried a bundle that looked like a sky blue blanket, and in the other he had a small, splintering wicker picnic basket.

"Ready for what? Aren't we eating out here on the porch?"

"No."

"Oh. Then are you going to tell me _where_ we're going to eat?"

"… No."

"But I want to _know_!"

"Then follow me and find out," Riku said simply, taking Sora's bag and loping down the stairs without looking back.

Sora huffed and paced for a moment. Walking off into some unknown woods at sunset with someone who could easily overpower him didn't seem like the greatest of ideas. _'But then again… it _is_ Riku,' _the boy thought with a small smile. _'The worst he could do is lead me through poison ivy, or let me get lost out there… and he'd never do either of those things. Following him anywhere is a pretty safe bet.' _

Sora followed the senior down the steps and beyond the patio area; he caught the fragrant scent of jasmine as he passed a low-walled garden. They passed through a small iron gate, leaving the meticulously cultivated garden for the unruly forest. Twigs and crumpled leaves hissed and snapped underfoot as the brunette followed Riku into the woods. The older boy led him along a narrow, winding path between the trees and brambles; he kept nearly ten paces between himself and Sora at all times, a careful eye furtively trained on the younger boy. Anytime Sora tried to lengthen his steps or quicken his pace, the silver haired senior adjusted his own movement to keep the distance between them.

Sora sighed. _'So be it,'_ he thought resignedly. _'He's obviously planning something. I'll let him surprise me.'_

They walked in silence for some time. Sora glanced up at the sky, noting the pale purple and pink fragments of sky he could see through the branches. Birds fluttered and darted amongst the turning leaves, chattering and singing incessantly. The brunette wrapped his red jacket tighter around him, surprised at how quickly and sharply the temperature was beginning to drop.

He tore his eyes away from the sky and the trees and back onto the trail in front of him, only to realize that Riku was no longer leading him and that he had absolutely _no idea_ of when the senior had left him behind. The boy stopped and sucked in a deep breath.

'_Oh no, oh no, oh no… I can't even find my way around downtown. How the hell am I supposed to make it back through the woods? Should I follow the trail back? Yeah, that sounds good. But what about Riku?' _Sora took a hitching step forward. _'He left me… But then again, what if he's lost, too? I should keep going. He might be further on ahead, and he's just as alone as I am.' _

He continued on, looking intently for signs of the barely distinguishable trail. He walked along its winding path for another few minutes, and finally a sudden curve in the trail led him straight into a small verdant clearing.

Riku was standing at the far end of the space; the blue blanket was laid out on the ground before him, a large spread of fruit covering a portion of it. The senior was crumpling up a paper bag and stuffing it into the picnic basket. "I was about to come looking for you," Riku said, his tone a mix of nervousness and concern.

"That's good, because I nearly turned around when I couldn't see you anymore," Sora replied crossly as he walked slowly over to the older boy and the blanket.

"Really?" Riku looked surprised. He set the picnic basket down and grimaced. "Sorry. I didn't think you'd get upset. I wanted to surprise you," he said apologetically, rubbing his forearm nervously.

"I know. I just don't like being lost. Or alone. Or both. Even though it happens to me a lot, it's still scary," the brunette explained, sitting down cross-legged on the fuzzy blanket. He gave the senior a hard look, "But this is a nice surprise, so I forgive you," he laughed, shaking his head at Riku's look of relief. "But just this once, so don't you make a habit of it."

"Alright, I'll hold your hand next time," Riku teased, sitting down across from the cinnamon haired boy. He smiled and leaned back on the blanket. He was actually quite proud of himself for picking this spot; it was secluded and charming, with short, brilliant green grass and a narrow creek along one side. Riku was fairly certain that he was the only person that ever visited this site, and it felt good to share it with Sora.

"Hahaha… would you really?" Sora asked with over-the-top enthusiasm, making the older boy burst out with laughter.

"Yes, I would. And I'd drag you down every trail through these woods," Riku grinned, making Sora giggle in turn.

"Ah," Sora sighed happily. "Let's eat now. My stomach is calling for food."

Riku pulled out a small knife and began slicing apples and oranges on the saucer he'd brought along in the basket. He and Sora laughed and told stories about themselves as they ate. It grew darker and cooler, so Riku pulled out a second, smaller blanket to cover Sora along with a few small candles for light.

"I don't understand why they call it 'grapefruit'," Sora murmured as he rolled the large fruit in his hands. "There's nothing even remotely grapey about it."

Riku smiled. "They did it just to confuse people like you."

"People like me? Is that so?" Sora grinned and leaned in toward Riku. "They did a good job. I'm thoroughly confused."

"Hmph." Riku tilted his head back and emptied a handful of pomegranate seeds into his mouth. He chewed them slowly and then licked his lips, the juice staining them a deep red.

"Strawberry?" Sora offered, holding out a handful of small, ripe berries invitingly.

Riku nodded and reached out to take one, arching his eyebrows in surprise when the brunette closed his hand and yanked it away. "No, no, no," Sora chided, smiling coyly. He selected one of the best looking strawberries and held it carefully between his thumb and forefinger. "If you want one of these, you have to let me give it to you."

Riku looked taken aback for a second, but that familiar expression of ease and cockiness settled back over his features moments later. "I'm okay with that," he whispered lowly, leaning forward and smirking. He let his mouth open just a sliver and looked expectantly to the brunette.

Sora looked equally shocked to have been taken seriously. He bit his lower lip and grinned, sitting forward and putting the strawberry against Riku's lips. The boy gave the berry a gentle push with his forefinger, letting out a quick hiss when he felt Riku's mouth begin to close around the tip of his finger.

The next few seconds were awkward. Sora, blushing furiously, curled up and stared at the sky and the trees and the grass (everywhere_ except _at Riku), while Riku, his cheeks an abashed shade of pink, slowly chewed the fruit and tried to come up with something to say.

"W-well, that was exciting," Sora finally stuttered, giggling nervously. He pulled the blanket tighter around himself, rocking back and forth a little.

"Definitely."

"Yeah, definitely." The candle flickered in the breeze, and the only noise came from fallen leaves as the wind rustled them. "This may be a stupid question, so forgive me if it is, but do you like me?"

"What?" Riku asked in disbelief. "Do I _like_ you? Is that what you're asking?"

"Oh, well, yeah." Sora looked away from Riku nervously, rubbing his hands together. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have, but I just wanted to get things clear between us. People told me that you did, but I wasn't sure, and then I thought I was sure in class cause you were looking at me and then during practice, and when I gave you that strawberry, but your reaction right now is telling me, 'Sora! You're an idiot for thinking that Riku liked you! How dense can one little German boy be?' so I'm guessing I was wrong about us, which hurts, but I can understand, and I know now that I shouldn't have excepted you to care about me that way, but I w— mmph, wrkoo mmmhh!"

Sora swooned at the warm press of lips on his own. He leaned back under Riku's pressure, bracing himself on his bent arms. The older boy traced his tongue along the brunette's lips; he coaxed Sora into a deep kiss, one that left the them both short of breath.

"I can't believe you would ask me that," the pale haired boy gasped, pressing kisses against Sora's lips, at the corner of his mouth, and along his jaw. "I thought it was painfully obvious. I thought you knew and you were half-toying with me, especially when you went around with that blonde guy."

"You mean Cloud?" Sora asked confusedly, his voice cracking as Riku nibbled a particularly sensitive area on his ear.

"Yeah. _Cloud_," Riku said accusatorially, his eyes narrowing. He gave Sora a final kiss and then pulled back, keeping his arms firmly wrapped around the boy's midsection.

"Don't worry about him. He's a friend."

"Hmph."

"A friend with a_ boyfriend_. Cloud likes older, leather-wearing men, not guys like me," Sora snorted. "Feel no fear, Riku. You're the only one who wants me, so you don't have to be concerned with other people taking me."

"Nonsense. You just tell Cloud I'm keeping an eye on him," Riku joked, pulling the brunette closer against him.

"Alright," Sora conceded. He snuggled closer to the older boy, who buried his nose in the unruly cinnamon spikes and smiled. "Uh, Riku?"

"Mm?"

"Are we gonna go back to your house soon? It's getting cold and I should probably call my mom, and I left my cell back at the house."

"Oh, sure. Sorry, Sora." Riku stood and pulled Sora to his feet, then set about collecting their area.

"Sorry to ruin the moment," Sora apologized, folding the smaller blanket and stuffing it back into the basket.

"Don't be," Riku said softly, pulling the younger boy toward him and planting a kiss on his forehead. "Now let's get back," he smiled, pulling out a flashlight, and headed toward the small break in the line of trees that indicated the trail.

"It's dark, Riku."

"It is," he agreed.

"Will you hold my hand?"

"Of course," he replied, taking Sora's hand in his own.

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**This chapter took the longest time yet. I started it during band camp and now marching season is over. Wow. I am super sorry, because I know that's an unreasonable amount of time. On top of some already stressful and time consuming courses at school, I had to deal with a crappy laptop that decided it wasn't going to charge anymore. The port got messed up (my sister hit it one too many times, I guess) and it couldn't charge the battery, so it went dead. **

**It pretty much just sucked. So now I have to use the most ancient desktop. **

**And then, while finishing this chapter, a **_**cockroach **_**crawled across the screen. I was looking down at my notebook, and then I looked up and THERE IT WAS. The bastard was on my screen! I fell out of my chair, and my dad had to come kill it cause I'm a wimp, and even now, as I'm writing this, I'm still jumpy. Those things scare the hell outta me. shudders**

**Notes:**

**1--- I have no idea how high a piccolo goes. I just know that they are painful to sit next to.**

**2--- Strawberry Gatorade: THE BEST THING EVAR. And it's pink. Yay! And yes, I've had my drink stolen at practice before. Unfortunately, A LOT of band people drink the pink Gatorade, so it's hard to catch the culprit.**

**3--- Road-side food-stand fruit is GOOD. Except for bananas. Which suck.**

**And while this chapter was a long time coming, the next should be done relatively soon. I have Christmas break coming up (ohmigod I so need it) so I'll be able to get a lot more done. :D That makes me happy, cause I really want to do the next chapter and get back to Axel and Roxas. Cause Axel is too fun. (I'm totally getting an Axel plushie for Christmas. Yes.)**

**Thanks for reading y'all!**


	12. Red and roses

**Sorry for the utter lack of updating. Anyhoo, thanks to combo-bass for beta-ing this! Yay!**

**And I recently reread some of the earlier chapters of Musica, and I'm somewhat embarrassed. XD (I'm also kind of amazed that so many people like it, and have stuck through the countless chapters of insanity.) But yeah, I started reading some of the chapters, and the author's notes (oh God, the author's notes…), and the main recurring thought I had was, 'Man, I'm a real dork.' And 'Hmm, not enough band to really call this a bandfic…' And also, 'Damn, I wish I'd worked Zack more into this.' **

**Enjoy? It's like a late St. Patrick's Day gift, or an early Easter one, if you go for that.**

"Your hands hold roses always in a way that says

They are not only yours."

---Richard Wilbur

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"How was your day?"

"Alright."

The redhead sounded angry, miserable, and on the verge of breaking down-- the exact opposite of 'alright'. Roxas exhaled heavily and flopped down onto his bed, the little blue cell phone still pressed against his ear.

"Sounds like a lie to me."

"What the fuck do you care? Huh? So what if my day was shitty, what's it to you?"

Roxas chewed his lip; over the past few days, this had become normal behavior for the redhead. He was snappy and abrasive, and Roxas didn't like it. He missed the normal Axel, _his_ Axel, the sweet and quirky and sexy and goofy one. 

The other end of the line was quiet for almost a minute. "Sorry about that, Rox. I had a bad day."

"I figured. You can just say it, though. There's no need to lie and tell me it was okay." 

"I know, I just… frazzled nerves, y'know? I'm this close to strangling Demyx, I swear."

"Wow. If you're that angry at Demyx, then what about Gippal?" Roxas snorted.

"Gip-- _fucking_, Gippal. I'd just-- no, wait. You're still relatively innocent, Rox. I can't tell you the horrible, unspeakable things I'd like to do to Gippal right now," Axel said acridly. "…But they do involve a lighter and some hairspray."

"It's okay, Ax. I can put two and two together."

"Do you know what that ass did? He tripped me _while_ I had my tenor on. _While_ I was holding sticks. I could've lost a fucking eye! I bet that was his plan. 'If I can't have both eyes, then NO ONE can! Hahahaha!' Yeah. That's it. What an asshole. So, anyway, I fall all over the place, and I'm already pissed to begin with, and that just made it worse… Then I had my jacket on inside-out for about two hours before Demyx and Gippal stopped fucking _snickering_ long enough to tell me. Yeah."

"I'm sorry your day sucked."

"Nah, I just… well, how was yours?"

"Same old, same o-- oh, wait, no, it wasn't the same. I didn't tell you this yet… Sora and Riku are like an item or something now, and they're all like, 'Let's suck face!' every chance they get, which gets really old really fast. I was talking to Sora about chemistry homework and then Riku just swooped in like one of those massive hawks in Africa that you see on Animal Planet and hauled him off into the bathroom. So I just stood there and waited, cause I did _not_ want to go inside and see what was happening. And I waited. And I waited. And then they came out ten minutes later and said they had a really important "report" to finish tonight, so they left me. Liars."

"Aw, is Roxie jealous of Riku?" Axel teased, making cooing sounds and kissy noises over the phone. 

"No, but I am kind of worried about my own boyfriend implying that I have a crush on another guy."

"Wha-- oh… wow. Yeah, I think you're right… for once. Scratch the, um, kissing sounds I was doing. I don't want you to get the idea that I condone any kind of romance outside of our relationship. Cause I don't."

"Gee… thanks for letting me know, because I was _sooo_ interested in Sora. Right."

"Shut up. I'm so used to mocking Gippal, I guess I just kind of slipped into it with you. Sorry. Anything else happen? Something un-Sora-and-Riku related, just to change the awkward subject?"

"Yuffie broke her nose when she ran into a bass drum, and then it started raining during practice… I had to haul ass back to the school so my clarinet didn't get wet. I swear, if the pads are messed up now, I'll freaking kill someone. I can't afford to get those things replaced."

"Ouch."

"_Big_ ouch."

"Hm." The redhead was silent after that, making Roxas wonder if he'd hung up.

"Axel?"

"Yeah?" He sounded tired.

"Just making sure that you're still there."

"I am. I'm… really messed up right now. Stressed. Working on the show, doing papers… Ma coming here soon. Probably tomorrow or the day after, actually," he mumbled. 

"Tomorrow? Or the day after tomorrow?"

"That's what Reno said. I guess that douche can actually be useful on occasion… at least I have a heads up now. It's better than her walking in while we're half-dressed or something."

Roxas winced at the thought. "I suppose." He chewed the end of his thumb. "You know what you need, Ax?"

"Hm?"

"A mental health day."

There was a pause. "The _fuck_? What does that mean? What are you saying? I'm _fine_," the redhead shot back defensively. "Look, I appreciate that you're trying to help, really, I do, but no. I don't need you to feel sorry for me, or whatever. I'm just dealing with some shit right now, and you don't need to worry about it."

"I think I do."

"I think you don't."

"Well then, it's a good thing that I don't give your opinions much credence, right? I'll be at your dorm tomorrow morning, and you're going to do what I say, and we're going to destressify you before your mom shows up and before you rip off Gippal's head. God knows you're probably close."

"Destressify? That's not even a goddamn word. And I refuse to go along with it."

"I'll drag you if I have to. I really will. Night," Roxas whispered, ending the call with a click. He set the phone on the desk beside his bed and crawled under the covers. He made sure to set the alarm extra early; he had a lot to do before starting the long drive down to the campus.

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Roxas could not have anticipated the trouble that the stubborn redhead would cause.

"Axel, I did not drive all the way down here just to watch you mope around in bed. Get up. Now. As in, immediately."

"No. Go away before I hit you."

Roxas stiffened and looked affronted. Oh, _hell_ no. It was not going to go down like this. "Excuse me? You get your ass out of bed before _I_ hit _you_," he said with a tone of authority, pointing to himself and Axel in turn. 

"I'm not getting up. You might as well go home, 'cause I'm really not in the mood to be around anyone right now." Axel rolled over, wrapping himself tightly into the messy sheets and blankets. "Just go away."

The blonde was taken aback at the redhead's words but covered his surprise and slight hurt with an impassive look of resolve. After all, he _had_ told the redhead he would drag him if it came down to it.

And dragging Axel anywhere proved to be a monumental task. He was petulant and sulky and refused to cooperate with his boyfriend. Roxas had to pull the older man from the bed, which wasn't easy given how fiercely he was clinging to the sheets. Then Roxas practically dressed Axel himself, none-too-gently stuffing limbs into clothing after the older man childishly went limp in an effort to discourage the blonde. After that, Roxas slung the redhead over his back and headed out the door, letting the man's long legs drag along the ground behind him. And Axel whined all the way.

Axel's rotten mood over the days before was nothing compared to his attitude now; he was snappy and sullen and seemed to spite everyone around him. By the time the young blonde made it to the art room door, he was exhausted, grouchy, and out of patience.

"What are we doing here?" Axel griped once he realized that this was Roxas' intended destination. He stopped digging his heels into the ground and stood up on his own two feet. Roxas simply grabbed the man's hand and pulled him inside.

"We're here," the boy said through gritted teeth, barely containing his desire to strangle the man beside him, "because you need to get out. No more pity parties in your room. No more scaring Gippal and Demyx or annoying me with your bad attitude. Get happy."

The red haired man stuck out his lower lip and turned away. "No. Why should I?"

Roxas grabbed Axel's chin and roughly pulled his face back toward him. "I'm tired of dealing with you like this. You're not being mature. I understand that you're upset about your mom and your brother and whatever, but you need to stop taking it out on _me_. I've only been nice to you. How long are you going to sulk and bitch and moan? You need to accept it and deal!"

"I am dealing with it! This is how I deal. You just don't like it. And I don't think you understand," Axel protested, grabbing Roxas' hand and ripping it away from his face. "You don't know shit--"

"I don't know because you don't tell me anything! I don't know why you do half the things you do, or why you say what you say. You give me the most vague information possible about you that you can and then you expect me to understand." The blonde shrugged and shook his head. "But I can't. I know next to nothing about you, and your family, and why it's such a big deal. I guess you don't trust me enough to explain. Or something. Whatever, though." Roxas grabbed his jacket off of the table and stormed out of the room, letting the battered metal door slam shut behind him.

Axel inhaled deeply through his nose. "Damn it," he muttered angrily as he ran a hand through his hair. Fighting with Roxas left him feeling worn out and empty, and his rage quickly began to dissipate, much to the redhead's frustration. Without the anger, he was just left with shame and guilt as he thought over his recent actions. Being so pissed that he could forget the feelings of others was much easier, much less complex and worrisome. 

Axel huffed and wrinkled his nose as he heard familiar footsteps approaching.

"Buck up, Cherry! Get that goddamn stick outta your ass!" Cid said somewhat encouragingly, clapping the redhead on his shoulders. 

"No. The stick stays," Axel said sourly, sitting down in a scratched, paint covered chair and propping his feet up on the heavily graffitied table. 

"Eh, asshole," Cid mumbled, his hands on his hips. He sniffed and rubbed at one of the many bright stains on his paint splattered shirt. "You can be a real piece of work, you know that? I've seen you like this before, but your little boyfriend hasn't. You could at least spare him your fucking attitude, even if you keep attacking everyone else around you. He's just trying to help you. Stop being such a self-absorbed bastard, MacKenna."

"Easier said than done," the redhead sighed as he plunked his head down on the table. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck… I can't do anything right, can I?" He peeked up at the unshaven blonde man with one eye, his forehead still pressed against the cool gray of the table. "Even when I've got the best thing I've ever had, I still can't keep myself from being an ass."

"Nope. But it happens to the best of us-- and hell, MacKenna, if it happens to the _best_ of us, I can only imagine how hard it is for you, being the piece of shit you are." Cid chuckled and started fiddling with the toothpick between his lips. "We take the people we love the most for granted the most. We shouldn't, but we do."

"Right."

"You get what I'm throwin' out, right, dipshit? Now go make amends before I beat the living Irish out of you."

"Wow. 'Dipshit' and 'amends' in the same breath. Now _that's_ talent," a chirpy voice said from across the nearly empty room.

Axel immediately sat up bolt-straight. "Rikku. How long have you been listening?"

"I was making macaroni art up in the loft. I heard _everything_. Ooooh, the drama! The romance!" Her numerous bracelets clanked and jangled as she flipped a braided chunk of blonde hair back from her face. "This is just like watching one of those teen dramas where everyone's like, freaking out and--"

"Rikku, do me a favor."

"Yeah?" The spunky girl looked at him with wide, swirling green eyes, bouncing from foot to foot enthusiastically. 

"Go find Roxas and bring him back here, would you?" Axel looked down at his hands, looking thoughtful and more than a little embarrassed.

"Aw, sure thing, Ax. I'll be back in a flash! And with Roxie!" She gave him a thumbs up as she pranced out the door, scanning the hallway for any signs of the missing high schooler. 

"What are you gonna say to him?" Cid questioned with a cocked eyebrow, his arms crossed as he leaned against the table.

Axel shrugged and let his head loll to one side. "You know, I'm not really sure. I'm not usually the kind of guy to be out of words."

The man nodded and patted the redhead's shoulder approvingly. "I'll be in my office. And I have a fire extinguisher, just in case things get out of hand." He gave Axel a knowing look and pointed sternly. "Don't let it get out of hand. I'm not technically supposed to aim that fucker at you kids."

"Right-o." The junior gave him a little salute and then grimaced, not particularly looking forward to his impending reunion with Roxas.

Axel put his elbows on his knees and leaned forward heavily, staring at the splatter-covered grey of the floor. He stayed hunched like that, pulling the loose threads on the ends of the sleeves of his hoodie until the fabric began to fray and split. He grabbed an Exacto knife from a box on the table and working it into the material, tearing along the seams. He did it absentmindedly, without even realizing he was close to splitting the side of the sleeve. When he sat back and saw what he'd done, he frowned and put the blade back into its box. He'd have to get Demyx to raid Zexion's room for safety pins later. Emo boy had plenty.

A few minutes later Rikku returned with Roxas and half a dozen other people in tow. "I ran into some people while I was looking for Roxas! Cid won't mind if we goof off in here. It's not like he has a class right now or anything." With that, she shoved the blonde toward the table where Axel was sitting and then watched anxiously, obviously hoping for a teary eyed apology followed by a steamy make-up kiss. 

Axel couldn't help but smile at the sight of the boy, with his light gold hair looking ruffled and a heavy pout in place. He held a slightly smushed white box in his hands; Roxas gave Axel a sour look as he walked over to the redhead's table.

The blonde set the box down and then crossed his arms. "You have something to say?"

"Yeah, I do," Axel admitted with a shy smile. "I'm sorry."

"Really." Roxas looked skeptical. 

"Really. I've been a total ass."

"You have." Roxas sighed and looked away, linking his arms behind his neck and stretching. "Okay. I accept your apology. But just so you know, I'm letting you off easy, because I like you."

"Okay." They smiled at each other.

"That's it?" Rikku asked from behind them, looking crestfallen. "All of that, for _this_? You didn't even-- there was no… ugh. _Men_. Even if they're gay, they're all the same." She put her hands on her thin hips and walked away, muttering about people wasting her time and not taking advantage of perfect romantic opportunities.

The redhead grinned, and Roxas felt a little guilty. He could see darkened bags under his boyfriend's eyes, and, if it was possible, he looked even thinner than before. Clearly, he wasn't coping well. He really was going to kill himself if he kept stressing like this.

"Thanks," Axel said with a slight blush. "I really am sorry. It's like… when you do something really stupid, but you don't realize how stupid it was until someone else points it out," he mumbled, burying his face in his hands. "I think back over the last few days and I want to slap myself with a two-by-four."

"I wouldn't stop you," Roxas said honestly. He quavered a little under Axel's pouty glare. "Look, I'm sorry, but I'm still a little upset. I usually hold grudges much longer. I'm just not used to letting things go without getting the chance to watch that person wallow in their guilt for a while."

"You really do have a dark side," Axel laughed, looking a little surprised at the blonde.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sick and cynical, blah, blah, blah. I get it plenty from Sora," Roxas said with a sigh, waving it off nonchalantly. "Now let's eat." Roxas popped the lid off of the thin white cardboard box and revealed several rows of brightly colored cupcakes. "Some of them got squished when I was getting them out of the car," he said as he pointed to a number of flattened cupcakes in the corner of the tray, "but they still taste just as good. I made them myself this morning." He smiled and licked neon frosting from his hand.

"These look great," Axel grinned. "What did you make them for?" he asked as he picked out a yellow topped one and took a bite.

"For you," Roxas said with a blush. "I thought they might make you feel better. You know… food does that. Especially the kind with copious amounts of sugar and artificial coloring."

"Ooooh, cupcakes!" Demyx said in a high voice. He homed in on the treats within seconds, swooping down over them with greedy eyes. He frowned as Axel stopped him with a firm hand.

"These are Roxie's cupcakes. Ask him first."

The sandy blonde looked pleadingly to the younger boy. "Please, Roxas? Pretty, pretty please? I need a cupcake really, really, _really_ badly," Demyx implored, leaning closer and closer to Roxas.

"I'm fine with sharing, if Axel is."

The redhead nodded. "Go for it, Dem. But the limit is one," Axel told him flatly. "One."

"But _which_ one, that's the problem," Demyx muttered, his eyebrows knitted together as he contemplated which cupcake to choose.

Axel rolled his eyes, looking over to Roxas with a grin. Numerous others flocked to the table to get their own taste of the treats, among them Gippal, Baralai, Cloud, and a busty brunette named Tifa. "Y'know, Rox, I think your cupcakes are turning out to be a big hit," the redhead laughed, gesturing to the group that was crowded around the box. "And I want-- OH MY GOD, GIPPAL!"

Axel leapt sideways off of the table he'd been sitting on and spun toward the one-eyed blonde. He frantically wiped at the side of his face, cursing unremittingly, and then looked at his hand, which was covered in garish pink frosting.

"What's your problem, Gippal? Did you think I _wanted_ a frosting facial?"

"But Axel," Gippal said amiably, his arms opened wide, the offending neon pink-covered cupcake still in one hand, "pink is _so_ your color."

The redhead growled and lunged for the tanned blonde man; he ripped a purple frosted cupcake out of Demyx's hand as he went, much to the mulleted boy's disappointment.

"Nooooooooo! That was _my_ cupcake! I claimed it!" he wailed, reaching desperately toward his red haired friend, who was savagely chasing Gippal. 

Not surprisingly, it wasn't long before Rikku joined in, followed by Demyx, Cloud, and Tifa. The room dissolved into chaos, the six running around the room, dodging tables, jumping over chairs, and attacking each other with cupcakes.

"They're all insane," Roxas commented offhandedly. Baralai, who had pressed himself to the wall to avoid being run over or covered in frosting, nodded in agreement. 

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?"

All action stopped at Cid's bellow. Tifa froze with her arms around Gippal in a chokehold and Rikku immediately ceased massaging green frosting into the blonde man's hair, casting a guilty look at her partner in crime. Cloud and Demyx stopped chewing, their mouths still full and their faces dotted with various colors of frosting, and exchanged worried glances. And Axel, standing in the middle of the floor, his hair streaked with orange frosting and his face smeared with pink and blue, was the most obvious target for Cid's fury.

"MacKenna! I leave the fucking room for five _goddamn_ minutes--"

"It's not my fault!" The redhead protested. He gestured to the thick covering of frosting on his face and clothes. "I'm the victim here!"

"No, you're not. Not yet. But you're about to be," Cid growled, rolling up his sleeves.

"Oh, come on, Cid," Axel pleaded, throwing out his arms in a defeated gesture. He took slow, cautious steps toward the man. "You know this isn't my fault. Gippal started it, and I just--" Axel lunged forward at that moment and smeared the frosting on his hand across the unsuspecting man's stubbly face, leaving a trail of glowing pink across his cheek and chin. The redhead jumped back just as quickly, dodging the older man's clawing hands and taking off toward the side door, bounding over tables and other obstacles like a deer. Once outside, he sprinted across the green, narrowly dodging pedestrians and couples lounging on the grass.

Cid was tempted to chase the fleeing redhead, if only to force feed him the last three cupcakes, but decided against it. He cursed continuously under his breath as he walked to Roxas' table.

"You!" He grabbed a rolled up piece of paper and smacked Roxas' head. "Give that to MacKenna the next time you see him. And good cupcakes. Think about going into the culinary arts." He grabbed one of the few that remained and retreated into his office, wiping the frosting from his face with the hem of his shirt as he went. 

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Roxas didn't know how to pass the time. He'd talked with Demyx for a good twenty minutes, which was… interesting, and then the mellophone had remembered a paper he needed to write and left to hunt down Baralai for help. And then Roxas was left alone in the room with nothing to do until Axel showed up. _If_ he showed up.

So the blonde busied himself with attempting to organize Demyx's side of the room, which had only gotten more and more unkempt and swamp-like as the year went on. Just as he was readying himself to look under the bed, the door clicked open.

"Hey. Hey, Rox," a careful voice whispered. "Is Cid in here? Is he waiting for me?"

"No, Axel. Cid never even left the art room. You've been running around covered in frosting for the last hour and a half for no reason at all."

Axel frowned and stepped into the room, shutting the door and locking it behind him. "Surprising," the redhead drawled thoughtfully, his brows knitted as he processed this. "Last year he chased me for over an hour just because I drank his coffee. Maybe he's getting weak in his advanced age…"

"Or maybe he just thought that the punishment you'd inflict on yourself was so great that he didn't need to bother. Where did you hide?"

"Bushes, behind a dumpster… I tried to get into Zexy's room, but he used his hair straightener to beat me out. And Demyx… Demyx just laughed." The redhead looked betrayed.

"Aw, well… where'd all the frosting go?" Roxas frowned as he turned around and actually got a good look at Axel for the first time since he'd arrived.

"Um, I washed it off in a fountain."

"You smell bad." The blonde wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "You need to go take a shower, a good one. Oh, and here." He walked over to the man and hit him on the head with a ruler he'd found buried in Demyx's side of the room. 

"What was that for?" Axel hissed, holding his head and glaring at Roxas angrily.

"Sorry, I was on orders to do that," Roxas said with a smile. "Now really, go take a shower. Reno kind of left a message… He said he's about halfway to your mom's house, so, uh, your mom's going to get here in a few hours. You might want to start getting ready and… cleaning up." He gave a pointed look to the haphazard piles of clothing and trash that littered the floor.

While Axel took his shower, Roxas set about picking out clothes for him to wear and tidying up the man's room. As time wore on, he resorted to kicking as much crap as he could underneath their beds and then shoving what was left into the closets. It worked for _his_ mom, after all.

And after his boyfriend emerged from the shower, the blonde combed and blow dried his hair, trying his best to make it lay flat rather than flaring out in random directions. 

"You know, you look a lot like your brother when you have your hair like this," Roxas commented as he brushed the taller man's bright hair, which now fell softly around his face. 

Axel leaned back in the desk chair, intent on balancing it on two feet. "Gee, thanks." Axel tilted his head and gave the blonde a desperate look out of the corner of his eye. "Roxas, I don't care how much my brother and I look alike-- promise me that if you and I ever break up-- God forbid," he added quickly, noting the scandalized look on Roxas' face, "you won't ever, ever, ever date my brother. Please. _Swear_ to me that you wouldn't."

"Don't be ridiculous," Roxas scoffed. "First of all, I don't intend to break up with you, even if you are a monumental jerk sometimes. Secondly, you and Reno may look alike, but you act completely different. I don't just like you for your looks, you know," Roxas said shyly, a pink blush touching his cheeks. "And thirdly, is Reno even gay?"

"He's not picky," Axel muttered, looking venomous. "If we weren't together, or if we stopped being together, he'd be all over you. Well, I'm not sure that our dating is even going to deter him. But let me tell you something," Axel said seriously, turning to Roxas and wagging a finger at him. "If he flirts with you, or comes on to you at any point in time, you tell me, okay? And I'll kick his ass. Cause he doesn't get you. You're _mine_. And only mine."

"I can take care of myself, thank you very much."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, really," Roxas said with attitude, his hands still busily working in Axel's hair. 

"How?" 

"Y'know, that movie," Roxas muttered embarrassedly. "Miss Congeniality or whatever. S-I-N-G. Solar plexus, instep, nose, groin. I'd go for the groin first, of course. Nothing says 'hell no' like a good, swift kick to the groin."

"Remind me never to make you too mad," Axel chuckled, leaning his head back to look up at Roxas. "What do I tell her?"

"About what?"

"Us."

"Oh… right." Roxas sat down on the edge of the bed behind him and thought for a moment, looking down at his lap intently. "Tell her whatever you want. I don't mind."

Axel rotated in the chair so he could see the blonde's face. "I don't… it's not like I'm _embarrassed_ or anything, you know that, right? And it's not that I don't love you, and it's not that I don't want to tell her, because I do, eventually." His jaw tightened as Roxas continued to avoid looking at him. "It's just that I think it might be best if she doesn't find out the second she gets here. Maybe… give her some time to adjust. Who knows, she might even realize the truth herself and accept it and spare us the trouble," he laughed weakly, quite aware that that idea had a snowball's chance in hell.

Roxas lifted his head and smiled softly at the redhead. "Axel… I understand, really. We'll just tell her we're friends." He shrugged and then stood. "It's not going to hurt my feelings. Besides, I'd rather avoid the drama. When you think she's ready to hear it, you can tell her."

Axel hid his face behind his large, thin hands and shook his head. Then he opened them up and looked up at Roxas with a smile. "You're way too understanding for your own good, Sunshine. And you're definitely way too good for someone like me."

"No," Roxas protested softly, shaking his head. "You just haven't given me the opportunity to make myself look like a total dickhead yet. Believe me, I can go there."

"I don't believe that," the lanky man laughed, rising from the chair and picking loose strands of red hair from the clean white of his turtleneck. He caught the blonde staring and chuckled. "What?"

"I don't want to make you upset, or make you think about bad times or anything, but why does your family upset you so much?"

"Oh. Well… it's not so much Reno as it is my parents-- though Reno is an annoying, slick bastard. Don't forget that," he warned Roxas, wagging a finger very seriously. He sighed, letting his shoulder slump forward and his head to nod down. "See, my family has this tendency to take everything I value-- every fragile shard of happiness, every moment of self-understanding and purpose-- and make it seem stupid and silly, and make me question it, or just outright ruin it."

"Really?"

"Really." Axel assured, nodding glumly. "But even with all of that, I still can't _hate_ them, because as messed up and derogatory as they can be, they're still my parents. And that makes me so angry sometimes, I just want to explode."

The redhead sat on the other end of the bed and crossed his legs. "You know, my dad came and visited me here last year. You remember that painting that I never finished? Well, he was part of the reason. Sophomore year… I had a lot going on. It was good for me, though. See, in high school I was kind of a jerk; I had friends, but they mostly just hung around me cause they were scared of me or because they were jerks like me. My freshman year was a continuation of that, only this time, I didn't have those friends. And believe me, being an asshole like I was is no fun when you're all alone. 

Sophomore year was when I decided to turn myself around. I'd finally started to get over my own ego and join clubs, and get to know people, and really develop myself. I blossomed," the redhead gave him a silly grin. "I'd also started to take my future seriously, and I finally decided on my major. Of course, my dad heard about that not long afterward, and he came to "set me straight"-- as far as my dad's concerned, studying anything other than math, medicine, or science is a waste of time and money, so he didn't take well to my going in for anthropology." The redhead blushed. "He calls it glorified grave-digging."

Roxas half-grimaced and rubbed the red headed man's shoulder comfortingly. "You're way more sensitive than you let on. You don't take disapproval very well, do you?"

"No, I really don't," Axel said with a smile, his eyes wide and surprised looking. He stared at Roxas for a moment before continuing. "Everyone wants their parents to be proud of them. Including me. And just knowing that they both thought so lowly of the choices I made-- of what _I_ wanted to do with _my_ life-- really got under my skin, to the point where I went into self-destruct mode and started hurting myself… and the people around me. I'm pretty bad about that."

"Yeah," Roxas agreed honestly. "You are. But I kinda understand that," he said with a nod, scratching the side of his blonde head thoughtfully. 

"Yeah. Well, needless to say, most people did not have the patience to stick by me through my asinine behavior at that time. Unlike you," he added with a wink, tilting his head toward the boy. "I lost a lot of the friends that I'd just made because of how stressed and pissed he made me. Before I knew it, I was plunged right back into that place of being almost alone and it was painful, because I had known what it was like to be well-liked and cared for. He just dogged me, finding me after classes, calling me nonstop, trying to convince me that what I was doing wasn't smart or financially sound or whatever. It got to the point where I hardly ever left my room, and everything I did suffered for it-- band, art, classes, friends, eating. I lost like, fifteen pounds over those few weeks."

"Is that why you're so skinny?"

"Psh, no. I've always been thin. I just got a whole lot thinner for a while."

"That's a scary thought," the blonde admitted, his eyes wide as he tried to imagine an even skinnier Axel.

"Yes, I looked like a skeleton," the redhead laughed, burying his head in his arms. "Too bad it wasn't close to Halloween," he added weakly. "Dad eventually left me alone, but I'm not sure if it was because of me, Ma, or Cid."

"Cid?"

"Yeah, Cid. He tore Dad a new one so fast he didn't even know what to do with it. Ma took up for me, too. She chewed him out every night until he went home. And before he left, I gave him a pretty good tirade on why I wanted to do this and why I thought he should back off. He hasn't said a word about anthropology since then."

"Oh. Well, I'm glad that got worked out. And just so you know, I think anthropologists are cool."

"Yeah, you'd better," the redhead laughed. "Hey, close your eyes for a sec."

Roxas did as he was told, snapping them shut and listening to the footsteps as Axel crossed the room toward the door and then returned, stopping just inches from the short blonde. 

"Go ahead and open 'em now."

A single, long rose was in his pale hands. He carefully passed it to Roxas. "Watch out, there are still some thorns." He smiled and wrapped his hand around the boy's smaller one, positioning the fingers so as to avoid the barbs.

"A while back I asked you what your favourite flowers were, remember? You should, cause that was when I first started harassing you with floods of text messages." The redhead grinned and looked away with a blush, and Roxas had to laugh. "Yeah, I'm a texting addict. What of it? Anyways, this is for you."

He took a step backward and shoved his hand into the pockets of his dark jeans, watching with a keen smile as the yellow haired boy pressed the rose against the tip of his nose. "Smells nice… feels nice. Did you pick this up while you were on the run from Cid?" he asked amusedly, chuckling at the older man's pout.

"Yeah. I--" A high, sharp ring interrupted him, and Axel pulled out his cell phone and checked the screen. He sighed and flipped the scratched red cell shut. "Reno says they just pulled up. C'mon." He exited the room quickly and headed for the closest parking lot; Roxas followed closely behind him, trying and failing to match the redhead's long, quick strides. 

Roxas had to jog a bit to catch up to the redhead, who had stopped just around the corner from the nearly empty lot, trying to maintain his cover behind a tall, well-trimmed hedge. Axel took a few deep breaths and began shaking himself out, looking as though he was preparing to run a ten mile race, or maybe to enter a boxing ring with a three-hundred pound contender in the other corner. Then he patted down all of his pockets, and straightened out his sleeves, and started nervously clicking the clasp of the watch on his left wrist over and over. 

Roxas shook his head and grasped the bigger hand in his own and gave it a firm squeeze, quietly reassuring the near-frantic redhead. Axel nodded to himself, biting his lip, before releasing Roxas' hand and emerging from behind the hedge.

Roxas followed some distance behind, unsure of where he fit into this equation; according to the story that Axel's mother would hear, they were nothing more than friends. Roxas didn't know what a friend would do in this situation, so he decided it would be better to hang back and avoid intruding on a personal family moment.

He watched Axel's mother pull him into an awkward half hug, and despite the trouble she was causing for the redhead, Roxas had to laugh. Clearly, Axel and Reno had gotten their height from their father. Their mom was barely five feet tall, he guessed, with wide hips and strong-looking arms. Axel had to stoop down to hug her, and she was so small and his arms were so long that they wrapped nearly completely around her. As he pulled away, she put a hand on top of his head and rubbed the hair there, making the ruby spikes jut out at odd angles. He frowned as she walked toward the back of the car to collect her bags from the trunk and tried to smooth down the errant pieces of hair. 

Spotting Roxas, Axel waved for the boy to join them.

"So…" Roxas nodded as he fell into place beside the tall redhead. "That wasn't as explosive as I thought it might be." In reality, Roxas had been imagining something along the lines of what he'd seen on Jerry Springer. Or maybe Cops, depending on how out of hand things got.

"No, no, it's always alright in the beginning. It's just painfully awkward." Axel stuck his hands into his pockets and nodded sagely. "I really need a smoke--"

"No, you need to quit, that's what you need to do," his mother said as she walked toward them, searching through her purse as she came. "I heard about this hypnotist doctor on the radio a while back, so I tried it, and it worked wonders for me, Axie. You should try it, especially with how expensive cigarettes are now-- who's this?" She had finally looked up from her purse and seen the young blonde next to her son.

"Uh…" Roxas' mind went blank under the stare of the little woman; on the surface, she seemed to be pleasant and friendly and curious, but her voice was tight when she asked and something in her eyes looked apprehensive. "Well, I'm--"

"Ma, this is Roxas," Axel said loudly, covering up whatever the blonde had been about to say. "He's a friend of mine."

Roxas felt a warm arm wrap around his shoulders and looked over to Axel in surprise, fully ready to scream at him for blowing the whole 'just friends' cover straight to hell, but saw Reno instead. Reno, standing way too close with an arm draped over his shoulder. Reno, who had shoved Axel away and taken the opportunity to get touchy-feely with the ruffled blonde. Reno, who was about to lose an arm-- and quite possibly some other valuable appendages-- if he didn't back up off of Roxas.

Axel was glaring daggers-- great, big, flame-covered, poison-laced, jagged-edged daggers-- at his brother. Roxas was pretty sure that he saw his boyfriend's eye twitch, as well.

"Yeah, Ma. This is Roxas, and he's totally cool," Reno drawled, ignoring the snarl that Axel was giving him and the none-too-subtle way that Roxas was edging away from him. He gave his mother a wide grin and pulled the blonde right back against his side. "He even plays in band, so, y'know, Axie and him can bond and geek out over that lame stuff together. He's hella smart and he has a pretty decent car, and he's never been arrested. And the girls just _loooove_ him," the redhead concluded, giving the boy a sly wink and stepping away.

"Oh, is that so?" the woman asked, visibly relieved at that last piece of information. "It's great to meet you, Roxas. Call me Alana, alright?" She grasped Roxas' hand and gave it a firm shake, grinning just as widely as Reno. She had large, square hands that felt too warm around his own. Her eyes were green but paled in comparison to Axel's; her frizzy hair was a graying red. It was knotted into a loose bun in the back, and thick pieces that had come loose fell over her shoulders and around her face. "I hope these two aren't corrupting you, you poor thing."

"Oh, no, they're okay."

She grabbed his elbow and steered him away from the parking lot. "You two, carry the bags. Roxas is gonna show me to the room. Don't take too long, now." She turned back to the blonde, resuming their conversation as they walked.

"Really? _Really_? You know, hun, if they ever bother you, just tell me. I'd tear them a new one so fast they wouldn't know what to do with it." She looked back over her shoulder at the two lanky redheads. "Isn't that right, boys?" she called.

"Yes, ma'am," they said in unison. 

"See?" Alana asked as she and Roxas turned the corner. She smiled brightly. "So, Roxas, you're in band, right? What do you play?"

"Clarinet." He gave a half shrug, unsure of what else to say. "It's okay."

"I tried to get Axel to play a wind instrument," Alana sighed. "Preferably brass, like a French horn or a trumpet. But he was so stubbornly set on the drums…"

"He's really good," Roxas said with a smile. "I wish the percussionists at my school had half as much talent."

The woman turned to him in surprise. "You don't go here?"

Roxas stopped and gaped for a second. "I-- uh, no, I don't." He made fists inside his pockets, his nails cutting into his palms, as he panicked over whether or not it was bad that she knew he was in high school. Was it weird for a junior in high school and a junior in college to be good friends? He hoped not. "I go to Twilight High. In Twilight Town. I'm in eleventh grade. Yeah. I… yeah." 

Alana made a small noise and nodded. She cleared her throat. "So, how did you and Axel, er, meet?"

"At a band workshop," Roxas said miserably, glancing behind him when he though that Alana wasn't looking. He needed some serious saving right now. He would be thankful to anyone, _anyone_, if they came and rescued him from the awkwardness of being alone with Axel's mother. "He was my assigned instructor… and we got along pretty well. It was a lot of fun, except for when he elbowed me in the face while trying to win the three-legged race."

She snorted and shook her head. "That sounds like him. He used to run back in high school, you know." She nodded, her thin lips stretched in an amused smile. "He got kicked off the team for deciding to run two legs of the relay race himself; instead of passing the baton, he shoved his teammate out of the way and kept running to the finish line. He got there first, but, you know, that's against the rules," she chuckled, elbowing the blonde a little. "He's really sour when it comes to losing."

"Yeah."

"So, what are your parents like, Roxas?" 

Oh, uh, well," the blonde muttered, caught off-guard by the question. "My dad's ex-military, and my mom is a homemaker. My mom is from Twilight Town, where we live, but my dad grew up in a really small town out west. He doesn't like living in such a populated place."

"They sound like good people. Are you planning on coming to Radiant Garden?"

"I haven't really thought about it yet. It's an option, if I can get enough money for it."

They walked in an uncomfortable silence the rest of the way; Roxas almost jumped for joy when he turned the corner in the hallway that led to Axel's room. His relief was short-lived, as he remembered that Demyx wasn't inside and Axel, along with his key, was still hauling baggage. He came to a stop in front of the door and stared at it.

"Yep. This is it."

"Well, the hallway certainly looks nice," the woman said brightly, studying the glossy floors of the wide, door-lined hall. "Much better than the college I went to… So, Roxas, sweetie," she said suddenly, turning her attention back to the boy. "Do you have a girlfriend?" she asked with a coy look.

The blonde gulped. "Well, no. No. Uh… But there is someone that I like a lot. We're not… boyfriend and girlfriend though." Well, it wasn't a lie, technically.

"Oh! Well, that's better than nothing, right?" Alana seemed instantly pleased. "What's she like?"

"Um, really funny, really sweet. Looks nice, too." He'd avoided mentioning any genders, so it still wasn't a lie or anything, right? It was more along the lines of letting Axel's mother believe what she wanted; that wasn't a crime…

"You're kind of shy, aren't you?" Alana laughed, patting on the shoulder. "Alright, I'll leave you alone. But you'll have to show me a picture of this girl! She sounds great. Maybe you could help Ax or Reno find one. God knows they need the help."

"Find one what?" Axel asked suspiciously as he rounded the corner with Reno just paces behind him. 

"Oh, nothing," his mother chuckled, giving Roxas a sly look. "Just chatting with Roxas here."

The redhead squinted suspiciously as he shuffled past and opened the door. "Sounds an awful lot like you were trying to get us set up with some chicks, Ma," he said with a perturbed frown, his lower lip jutting out. "Don't use Roxas like that. We're grown men. We don't need his help to get dates. Come on, you think we're that pathetic?"

"I'm not using him, Axie, I'm just hoping he'll rub off on you a bit," she explained slowly as she followed him inside and looked around the room with surprised approval. "And apparently he has. You could never keep your room this clean, after all. Look! I can see the floor and everything." She gave the blonde a confident smile, and put her hands on her hips. "Put the bags on the bed, boys. Better get to unloading them, eh?"

Roxas watched with wide eyes as they set the stuffed duffel bags on Axel's bed and stepped back so Alana could start unpacking. "You're staying h-here?" he asked suddenly, his voice unexpectedly loud; he nearly covered his mouth afterward out of embarrassment. 

Alana laughed at the bewildered looking blonde. "Oh-ho-ho, of course not, no. I have a four-star hotel room waiting for me after this," she snorted, looking appalled at the thought of staying in the dorm room. "These are just some things that I brought for Reno and Axel-- and you, too, I guess," she added with a grin. "I mean, I hadn't planned-- I didn't know-- Axel never tells me anything, so I… but there's plenty," she mumbled more or less to herself as she began unzipping a large blue bag and picking through its contents. She removed numerous folded articles of clothing, some obviously handmade and others that looked store-bought and new. There were knitted hats and a few sets of earmuffs, scarves, sweaters, a thick jacket, piles of socks, a stack of shirts, and numerous packs of underwear, which Axel snatched up and shoved into his drawer upon seeing. 

"Ma… do we really have to do this right now? I have stuff to do, and so does Roxas," he complained

"You can take a little time out for your own mother," Alana huffed. She handed a blue knit cap to Roxas, which he tentatively took, unsure of why she was offering it to him. "That'll go great with your eyes, hun. And it's getting close to winter, so take this as well." The woman pushed a white and green striped jacket into his hands and patted him on the shoulder. "And since you're being so anal about this," she said with a glare at Axel, "I can just leave the other bags here for you two to go through on your own time. Oh, and make sure you tell that weird roommate of yours-- the one with the hair-- to keep his hands off."

"Right Ma--"

"Oh! The food! I nearly forgot. I'll just do that and then I'll leave you boys to it-- get me the cooler bag," she ordered Reno, snapping her fingers impatiently. 

The redhead quickly grabbed the bag and handed it to his mother, who promptly unzipped it and began shoveling out the contents; there was so much food contained in that one, single pack that Roxas couldn't believe it. There were all kinds of frozen, microwavable snacks, as well as pre-cooked meals in Tupperware containers, and plastic bags filled with cereals and chips and trail mix and Chex. Axel grabbed a tall, wobbly stack of containers and bags and carefully walked to the minifridge. 

Roxas raised his eyebrows, interested in seeing how on earth the redhead was going to make all of that food fit into such a small space-- granted, the fridge was already nearly empty, but there was still no way that the sheer volume from Alana's bag could fit into it. He watched Axel kneel before the fridge and begin stuffing as much as he could inside, with little to no regard for the well being of the food.

"Now, Roxas," she caught the blonde's attention while the other two boys were across the room. "Make sure that Axel eats. He's skinny as a rail-- the only reason I can see him when he turns sideways is because he's got that massive hair. Everything in there is meant to fatten him up--"

"Ma," the man whined from the fridge, giving her a pleading look.

"--but feel free to help yourself to some if you get hungry. You're awfully small yourself," she added, shaking her head. "No girl wants to marry a stick, Axie," she chided, clucking her tongue at her son as she zipped up the empty bag and handed it to Reno.

"I have a fast metabolism. It's not my fault," the redhead muttered as he crammed the last bit of food into the tiny freezer and slammed the door shut before anything could topple out. 

"I guess it's time I get going. Goodnight, Roxas, it was great to meet you. I should talk with your parents some time," she said with a wave to the blonde. He smiled and nodded weakly. "As for you, O stubborn child of mine," she sighed as she walked up behind the still-kneeling Axel. "Sleep well. Come by the hotel once you're done with classes. You can show me around the town."

"Sure thing."

"Reno, I'll be waiting in the car. Hurry up, and don't forget the bags." She left with a wave, closing the door as she backed out of the room. Then it was quiet.

Axel punched his older brother hard on the shoulder, catching the other redhead off-guard and making him yelp. "_That's_ for touching Roxas, pig."

"Hey, hey, I was just trying to help, y'know," Reno whined, rubbing his injured shoulder sourly. "If you were paying attention, I was drawing attention _away_ from you two and your sordid relationship."

"It's not sordid," Roxas pouted in the background, ignored by the arguing brothers.

Axel rolled his eyes. "Yeah. 'Blah, blah, blah, and all the girls _love_ him and want to have his babies!' Real subtle. Nice. Nice." 

"My voice does not sound like that," the older man scoffed, scowling at the high-pitched voice Axel had used when impersonating him.

"And you were-- you were hanging all over him! Like--"

"Oh, stop your worrying. I'm not gonna steal your boy or anything," Reno sighed as he flopped onto Demyx's bed and shut his eyes, "and Ma's not going to think I'm queer just cause I put my arm around him. I mean, look who's talking!" He threw a superior look toward his brother. "At least I have some credibility-- I actually dated _girls_ back in high school, unlike _someone_." He raised a brow at his younger brother. 

"Shut up. The point is, Roxas is mine. Don't get any crafty ideas."

"You're so paranoid--"

"Night," Axel said with a false, overly cheerful smile as he put his hand against Reno's back and pushed him toward the door.

"You're so mean," he sniffed as he picked up the bags along the way. "Night, Axie. Night, Roxie. Have fu--"

Axel slammed the door shut mid-sentence. He pressed his face to the door. "Good night, Reno."

A muffled 'asshole' was all he got in reply.

"Whew." Axel exhaled as he exaggeratedly wiped his forehead. "That could have gone so much worse…"

"Probably." Roxas smiled as his boyfriend sat next to him, the side of Axel's right leg touching his left. It was a little touch that made him lean against the tall man, yearning for the contact that he couldn't have when Axel's mom was around.

"Definitely. So…"

"She thinks I have a girlfriend." 

He looked over at the blonde and snorted, leaning heavily against the smaller boy, almost pushing him over. "You? A girlfriend? Wow, Ma's gotten soft. She was never _that_ gullible when I was a teen."

"Hey, I could get a girlfriend if I wanted. It's not that unbelievable," Roxas sniffed, trying to pull away and getting abruptly tugged back.

"Don't be silly, I know that. That's why I'm lucky to have you. You're awesome, Roxie."

"Wow. I'm 'awesome'. How romantic." Roxas took Axel's hands, entwining their fingers and putting his head against his shoulder. "You're pretty kick-ass yourself, Ax."

"Thanks."

"What's in the other bags?" The blonde asked curiously, casting a look toward the remaining few bags on the floor.

"Oh, more clothes, maybe some shoes, cleaning supplies, blankets, and any random junk that Ma wanted to get rid of."

"She seems pretty nice."

"She can be." The man looked down at his lap with a thoughtful smile. "It's complicated, disagreeing with someone you love. I mean, she's my mom, you know? No matter how much I dislike what she says and thinks, I have to live with it. I think she feels the same way, but that doesn't make it any easier." 

Roxas shook his head. "It doesn't."

The redhead turned his head toward the boy and blew tiredly at the fluffy blonde spikes. "So, Roxie, how do you like your new hat?" he grinned, looping an arm around Roxas' shoulders and coming up to play in his hair.

"It's actually kind of cool looking. I'm going to wear it. And the jacket, too. I want… I would like your mom to like me. So… she'd like that, right?"

"She'd love it."

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**I wrote the first half of this chapter twice, and believe me, it was **_**horrible**_** the first time. I like it much better now, and it's longer than it was initially. **

**I can't remember if I already said this, but I just got a new laptop for Christmas. It's a Dell Inspiron, and I love it, but the keys are killing me. They randomly just stop working. First it was the shift key, then random letters like 'w' and 'h', and now the spacebar seems to hate me. If anyone happens to know what's wrong or a way to fix it, I'd be really thankful. I came very close to stabbingthe keyboard with a screwdriver while writing this chapter...**

**So review and tell me what you thought, please:D And then go read The Forest's Creatures by lackofname, because it rocks.**


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